Seeing Beyond
by Zeeji
Summary: Sequel to Seeing Clearly.  The continuing adventures of King Alistair and Queen Delia.  Some Awakenings spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**_This is the sequel to my story Seeing Clearly. Dragon Age and its characters do not belong to me, but Delia and the others who have sprung out of my own imagination use its universe. I hope you enjoy this new journey! Please feel free to review!_**

Chapter 1: A New Reign Begins

The days following the coronation of King Alistair and Queen Delia were busy ones at the palace. Denerim needed many repairs and every able bodied person worked diligently to renovate damaged buildings and restore the city walls. It was fascinating to watch as humans worked alongside elves and dwarves as stone walls were rebuilt and debris cleared. Mages also helped by casting rejuvenation spells on those who tired and healing anyone who was injured during the work. A new respect between the people was built during the restoration process with strong bonds forged through mutual experience.

Trent and Zevran were given the responsibility for palace security. With Trent's experience as commander of Bann Loren's soldiers he easily took command of the palace guard. Zevran worked toward the personal security of the king and queen and started to build alliances with trusted supporters both within the palace and throughout the city. His contacts would collect information of all sorts, and Zevran would determine if anything posed a threat to his friends.

Oghren was given the rank of Captain and placed in charge of the company of palace guards who were responsible for the interior security of the palace. Trent put him in that command to be certain that his daughter and son in law would be carefully guarded by only the best men under command of someone completely trustworthy.

As Trent, Zevran and Oghren worked together to ensure the palace security, Wynne was organizing the magical needs of the palace. Even though she promised to remain at the palace until after Delia's baby was born, she wanted to be certain that there would be a trustworthy mage on site to care for her friends after she left. To that end, she asked First Enchanter Irving of the Circle of Magi if one of her students would be allowed to stay at the palace to care for the royal couple. Irving agreed readily. He had a great deal of respect for the king and queen as well as each of their friends who fought the Blight, however he also had a more personal reason for agreeing to her request. Kinnon, one of Wynne's most promising students, had been ill at ease at the Circle, and Irving felt it would be in the best interest of the young man if he had an opportunity to experience life beyond their protected existence.

Alistair and Aeden spent most of their days helping with the rebuilding of the city along with Sten and Shale. The fact that the king would work alongside his people, even though he would be surrounded by guards, made a huge impact on the citizens' morale. There didn't seem to be any job too menial for the king to perform, and his good humor as he worked helped to prevent complaints or disputes among the masses. It seemed that the new king could do nothing wrong in the eyes of his people, and they started to refer to him as "The People's King" as their respect for him grew by leaps and bounds.

Delia tried hard to deal with the loneliness that the rebuilding brought to her personally. Even Dairren and Leliana were busily trying to organize the palace's library, but wouldn't allow her to do much of anything in her "delicate condition". She tried to sit at a table and divide books into stacks by topic, but inevitably the baby would kick or the chair would become uncomfortable, so after a while she started to simply borrow books to read. There were quite a few Orlesian romance novels, and although they weren't particularly scholarly, they were a diversion from the boredom of her days.

After several weeks, Sten decided it was time for him to return to Seheran. Although they were all sorry to see him leave, they knew the Qunari warrior needed to complete the mission assigned to him by the arishok. Although Sten wished to leave without any sort of fanfare, Alistair arranged for a small send-off party the night before his ship departed for their friends. They didn't know if the group would ever be together again, and when Sten finally boarded the ship for Seheran even the stoic Qunari seemed to show his own feelings of loss via the frown on his face.

Aeden and Alistair needed to contact the Grey Wardens and decided to send a messenger to the wardens who were waiting in Orlais. They used the information given to them by Riordan as well as information found among his personal belongings after his death to determine where to look for them. It took several months before they finally received a visit from the Orlesian Wardens. By that time, the city life had started to return to something similar to normal. Merchants were hawking their wares in the market district and people were able to go about their normal daily chores for the most part. There were still repairs being done, and a complete rebuilding initiative had started in the alienage once the humans of the city realized how horrible the conditions actually were in the section.

It was a very hot day, and Alistair and Delia were busy holding court in the Great Hall. Most of what they had to work through were petty disputes, easily dispatched without taking much time, and Delia wondered why she was even in attendance. She had to wear dresses that were suitable for someone of her station, and with the heat and especially being as far along into the pregnancy as she was she was extremely uncomfortable. A servant made certain she had cool water to drink and they tried to fan the queen to provide as much comfort as possible.

After a particularly frustrating adjudication, Alistair called for the next case.

The Crier opened the doors as he announced, "The Warden Commander of Orlais, Gerod Caron, and his second, Elyon Andras."

In walked the two wardens. Their eyes showed some agitation as they scanned the personnel surrounding the royal couple. Immediately they focused on Aeden, but seemed puzzled as they approached Alistair.

"Greetings, Your Majesties. I am Warden Commander Gerod, and this is Warden Elyon. We were delighted to receive your invitation to Denerim. The men of our order were most pleased when we… felt the demise of the archdemon, and we are glad to see how well you and your people have recovered. The recovery from the Blight seems to be progressing quite quickly, faster than we expected."

The Warden Commander bowed deeply in front of the royals, flashing a sultry smile at Delia. Delia immediately reached out with her talent and found that although he was clearly there on Grey Warden business, the man had no decorum when it came to women. Inwardly she laughed – Zevran had been very good at training her to deal with such a lecherous man. She couldn't wait to watch how Leliana would torment him – the entertainment certainly had only begun!

"Well met, Gerod and Elyon. Indeed, the Maker himself has smiled on Ferelden and we are blessed to see the land recovering so well from the taint. I trust you had no difficulty on your journey?" Alistair also had noticed the man's roving eye and was trying to abate his anger.

Gerod smiled, keeping his eyes on the two women. "No troubles at all, my liege." He looked at the king and then Aeden before continuing. "It is rather amazing that you were able to defeat the archdemon with as few wardens as you had. Tell me, does Riordan live?"

Aeden shook his head. "No, Riordan died after falling from the archdemon's back. He was able to destroy the dragon's wing in the process, grounding the beast so we could more easily fight it."

Gerod's eyes narrowed. "Then who took the killing blow? Wasn't there another warden with you?"

Aeden was suspicious of the warden, but decided to be honest. "There was… is a third warden. King Alistair was the warden who took the killing blow."

"King Alistair?" Elyon was shocked. "But I feel…"

"Hush, Elyon. Do not speak out of turn." Gerod's gaze went to his second in an unspoken warning. Turning again to Aeden he asked, "I believe we must have a meeting among Grey Wardens alone. Do you have any proof that you, King Alistair, are indeed a Grey Warden? It is… unusual to have… royalty among our order."

"Ye-es, I believe we have a copy of Commander Duncan's Joining Record among Riordan's personal effects. I will have one of the servants show you to your quarters and we can meet after dinner in my study. I'm certain your men would appreciate a warm bath and an opportunity to relax after your travels." Alistair summoned Seamus, the palace Head of Staff, to his side and asked that he personally see to the wardens' needs.

As the servant bowed to his king, he looked at the wardens. "If you sers would follow me, please." Seamus turned and walked toward a side door. The wardens bowed to the king and queen, Gerod's eyes again passing over Delia in an ungentlemanly fashion. As Gerod and Elyon turned to follow Seamus, the Warden Commander had the audacity to wink at the queen. Delia didn't give the man any response, but once he was out of the room and the door closed she couldn't help herself but to look at Leliana and burst out laughing.

"My, my, but that man seems to think he is something special, doesn't he?" She laughed so hard that tears came to her eyes.

Leliana also seemed to feel the same way about the man. "Yes, he is quite taken with himself. Perhaps I should keep an eye out for him. I'm afraid he could try to cause trouble while he's here."

Alistair frowned. "How can a man rise to such a position and yet be so bold to attempt to flirt with the queen of Ferelden, especially when her husband is sitting right next to her? Does he really expect it would go unnoticed?"

Delia put her hand on top of her husband's. "He is Orlesian, Alistair. They _do_ live in a very different political arena and his emperor and empress are known to have their dalliances. He simply has to learn the hard way that I am not Orlesian and am most dedicated to my king and that our marriage is not simply a matter of politics. I believe he has conveniently forgotten the mistrust that exists between Ferelden and Orlais. Very few women here will fall for his… charms."

"Well, I don't have to like it… or him for that matter." He looked at the door where the warden had exited and his eyes flashed with annoyance. "At least we're done with this business for the day. Why don't we go to our quarters and I'll try to help you be more comfortable, my love." He stood and held his hand to her.

They walked hand in hand back to their rooms. On the way, Alistair spoke to Dougal, the head servant for the royal wing, and asked for a bath to be drawn in their chambers. The man immediately set to work, and before long the bath was ready and Alistair and Delia were alone.

They bathed, feeling much better after removing the sweat from their bodies, and dressed in simpler clothes for the evening. It was a relief to Delia to be in the soft linen dress after the heavy court attire she was forced to wear that afternoon. Alistair had also changed to a pair of linen breeches and a soft linen tunic. The two had some rare time alone before dinner, and Alistair decided to take her to the garden where they could sit quietly under a tree and feel a bit cooler.

They walked out to the garden, Alistair with his arm around his wife's waist, and sat on their favorite bench under a willow tree. The roses were barely still in bloom, and Alistair picked one for Delia, earning a smile and a kiss from his love.

"You know, I still have the first rose you gave to me," she said to him as she leaned against his strong chest. "You were so adorably shy back then."

He pulled her close as he chuckled into her ear. "I'd like to think that I was irresistible." He kissed her cheek and nuzzled into her hair, smelling her familiar scent of roses and lavender.

"That you are, my love, so I had best be careful to keep any other women far away from you. I don't want to share." Her arms held his arms tighter around her.

"There are other women? I had no idea…" he teased. "You capture my attention in such a way that I can hardly see anything else."

Delia moved her hand to his cheek. "That's only because I'm as large as a great bear."

"_You_ have never been more beautiful. I can't wait until little Duncan is finally born and we can be a proper family." He turned his head and kissed her hand. His mood darkened as thoughts of their visitors entered his mind. "Might I ask you something? What do you think of the Orlesian wardens?"

Delia thought for a moment. "I believe they are here on warden business only. There is nothing that I could 'see' that would show that they are Orlesian pawns. Gerod is rightfully confused because he cannot sense the taint in you. I believe that is what he wishes to speak to you about tonight."

Alistair frowned again. "And what about his behavior toward you? Do I have to worry?"

Delia turned to face him and kissed him warmly. "You have nothing to fear as far as I am concerned. He wouldn't dare to be too forward with me, as he could cause huge problems for the cause of a Grey Warden presence in Ferelden. He may flirt and be obnoxious, but I can handle him. Maker knows that I've had enough practice between Zevran and Teagan as well as other students back in Antiva."

Alistair looked surprised. "Wait… what? Others at your school? I don't believe you've ever mentioned any other men flirting with you in the past…"

Delia put her hands on each side of his face. "We've never really talked about anyone from Antiva because there was only flirting, and it was always one sided coming toward me. I was never interested in anyone but you, Alistair. You, my love, have nothing to worry about. You will always hold my heart."

As he pulled her into a hug he nuzzled her hair again, breathing in her comforting scent. "Good to know. I love you with all my heart as well. I suppose we'll just have to see what Gerod has to say later."

"In the meanwhile, Alistair, let's just enjoy having this time. Maker knows I've had little opportunity to see you during the daylight." She snuggled into his chest. "I've missed having much time for us. We had more time together while we were facing the Blight."

He sighed sadly. "You're right. You know what? I will speak to Teagan and have him put time into my schedule for my family. I need time for you, and when Duncan is born he'll need my time as well. Would you like that?"

She looked into his eyes, his loving gaze as sincere as ever, and she smiled again. "You know I would love that. I can never spend enough time with you."

"Then it's settled." He kissed her gently, but expressively. "I'll speak to Teagan at dinner."

They spent the remaining part of the afternoon simply being together, smelling the roses. Delia couldn't remember any time quite as perfect as she felt her husband's embrace and his warm breath. She was truly a very lucky woman and she would never take what she had for granted. This man, her husband, would be a fantastic father to their child, she just knew it. She couldn't have asked for a better man, a better life, and she was more than grateful.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I am so sorry I messed the first chapter up and started over. Thank you to eveyone who re-alerted! I hope you continue to enjoy my story.**_

_**A HUGE thank you to Liso66 who is my new beta reader! I am so excited to have her helping me and know that my story will be far better for her input.**_

Chapter 2: Orlesians and Their Politics

Gerod sat in a chair near his room's fireplace as he contemplated his strategy for the evening. His second, Elyon, was taking his turn in the bath after their morning of travel and meeting the king and queen. Now that the senior warden was clean and in a far more comfortable linen tunic and breeches the day no longer seemed as oppressively hot, although the heat did seem to bring out the distinct aroma of dogs that seemed to permeate the palace.

He looked forward to meeting with the Fereldan warden, Aeden, and the king that evening. It would be fascinating to hear their excuse for why the king was listed as a Grey Warden when he was obviously not tainted. Perhaps the true man named Alistair had indeed died slaying the archdemon and they planned an elaborate ruse to keep the throne in their own grasp. If he could somehow prove his suspicions, perhaps he would earn a promotion from Weisshaupt. A sly smile crossed his face as he thought about how his superiors would take the news of Ferelden's scam artists. Perhaps he would finally prove the senior mage at Weisshaupt to be a fraud as well and wipe her own self-satisfied grin from her face. He would have the glory that he was created for, one way or another.

Elyon returned to the room from the bathroom and started to dress in similar clothes to Gerod's. The elf was not Gerod's first choice as second in command for this mission, but he was given no choice. Elyon was too trusting and naïve to the subtleties of politics and Gerod tired of constantly trying to teach the younger man how to behave. Oh, there were certain things the elf did quite well, such as blending into the shadows to retrieve information, but the amount of time Gerod had to spend simply to explain why the elf needed to do as he was asked drove the senior warden to distraction.

"So, what is your approach for tonight? I assume you want me to observe the Fereldens over dinner?" Elyon asked as he tied the tunic laces.

Gerod absentmindedly stroked his beard. "Yes, I shall sit at the table with the king and queen. You shall sit anywhere else and listen to their conversations. Make note of anything interesting and report it to me later."

Elyon looked at his mentor and grinned. "Do you intend to try to converse with the queen?"

Gerod chuckled. "But of course! The best way to find out the king's weaknesses is to work through his queen. Women are so easy, Elyon. They will always swoon for a man who makes them feel desirable, and these stupid noble women in their political marriages are always easy targets if you romance them."

"It is amazing to watch you at work, my friend. You make it look so easy."

Gerod laughed aloud. "Oh, but it is simple. You simply need to discover the woman's weakness, the area that she feels the least certain about herself and use it to your advantage. If you make her believe that her weakness is the most endearing thing about her and it is a shame that others do not see the beauty in it, you can wrap them around your little finger and have your way with them."

Elyon was never certain that the senior warden was serious, but found it easier to joke with the man than to question him. It was very true that Orlesian women were narcissistic creatures, and flattery could get you whatever you desired. Elyon himself had taken advantage of their neediness. It was easy to earn a warm bed for the night if you flattered a woman about how beautiful her eyes were, or the softness of her hair. From what he had seen of Ferelden women, however, they seemed to come from a heartier stock. Women in this country were practical creatures, and flattery was not something they seemed to need.

Gerod stood and paced in front of the window. "Elyon, when we are meeting with the two so called wardens, it is important that you let me do the talking. I must lay my trap carefully and not have it sprung too early, comprenez-vous?"

"Oui, je comprends. I should keep my questions to myself."

"Good, now let us discover how atrocious Ferelden food actually is. I have heard stories, but I fear my warden appetite will overcome my taste buds."

The two men walked out of the room laughing as they made their way to the dining room.

In the meantime, Alistair and Delia were walking down the hallway of the Royal Wing accompanied by Aeden and Leliana. Both Dusty and Griffon led the way as their humans conversed amiably.

"Delia, I found a merchant yesterday that has the most beautiful imported fabrics. We must go there soon! There was the most beautiful blue silk that I thought would be perfect for outfits for little Duncan! We must start thinking about the prince's wardrobe after all. He'll be here before you know it!" Leliana patted her friend's stomach appreciatively. The bard was looking forward to becoming an aunt almost as much as Delia looked forward to becoming a mother.

"That would be fun. We can bring Wynne and perhaps have lunch at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. I feel as if I haven't left the palace in ages."

Alistair frowned. "If you go, make sure you bring enough guards. Zevran can arrange whatever you need."

Delia patted his arm. "We'll be fine, love. None of us are defenseless."

"I know, but you know as well as I do that your stances are a bit off now that the baby is a part of your… body weight. I don't want you to place yourself in any kind of danger."

"Don't worry so much, papa Alistair. I will be certain to keep your wife and child safe." A warm smile grew on Leliana's face. "However, it would be interesting to have Zevran's opinion on baby items, don't you think? He would probably buy a set of small daggers for Duncan to keep hidden in his diaper."

As the women laughed, Aeden noticed the worry on his friend's face and put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Alistair, you know that they could never leave the palace without Zevran knowing anyway. He's most likely hidden in this very hallway right now, watching over us all and making sure we don't get ourselves into trouble."

"Ye-es… that's what makes him so good at his job, I suppose." Alistair shook his head and sighed. Sometimes he couldn't tell if his wife simply didn't take security seriously or if she acted as she did to get a reaction from him.

As they walked into the dining room one of the servants announced them. Alistair felt as though he would never get used to that particular part of being the king. The four walked to the head table to take their seats. Alistair was in the center with Delia to his left and Teagan to his right. Leliana and Aeden were sat to Delia's left. Across the table from the royal couple sat Gerod, Dairren, Zevran and Wynne. Gerod smiled at Delia and nodded his head to acknowledge her. She simply looked away, making the warden smirk. Alistair saw the smirk and frowned. This dinner would not be written in the history books as one of his favorites.

The servants brought out a meal of venison stew and fresh bread. Gerod sampled a spoonful and found it was surprisingly tasty.

"Your Majesty," he directed to Delia, "I am surprised that your cooks have such an expert knowledge of herbs. It was my understanding that Ferelden food was far… simpler fare."

Delia nodded. "That is usually true, however we are fortunate to have several members of our warden companions who are quite accomplished herbalists and have shared their knowledge with the cooking staff. I believe you will find all the food here to be quite tasty, although not anywhere nearly as extravagant as you would find in Orlais."

"You speak as if you are familiar with our cuisine. Have you traveled to Orlais?"

"No, but I studied in Antiva for many years. I rather enjoyed my cooking classes."

The Orlesian warden raised an eyebrow. Perhaps this woman wasn't quite as callow as he thought. He would have to proceed with caution if he were to see his plan through.

The rest of the meal was spent in quiet conversations among individuals throughout the room. Delia was happy to have Leliana sitting at her side as the two were able to talk without being interrupted by the men. Although Gerod didn't seem to take his eyes off of her, she successfully ignored him. It was quite obvious that he wanted to seduce her, and she didn't want to play his game. Alistair also noticed the Orlesian warden's gaze, but took his wife's lead and tried to ignore him as well. Teagan and Aeden involved him in a conversation about armor for the guardsmen which helped the meal pass quickly.

Once the meal was completed, Alistair asked Aeden, Gerod and Elyon to follow him to the Royal Study. He gave Delia a kiss and told her he would see her later as Gerod watched, his eyes smoldering. Delia watched as the wardens left the room before she turned to Leliana.

"That man is definitely up to something. I feel that he wants to seduce me in order to get to Alistair, but his heart is very guarded. Would you please keep an eye out? I think you might find out more in this situation than Zevran."

"Of course, my sister. I have the same sense about him. As soon as I can warn Aeden I will work my feminine wiles."

Delia's eyebrow rose in surprise. "After you warn Aeden? Does this mean that he has finally said something to you about his feelings for you?"

Leliana laughed. "Not yet. You know as well as I that he will take a long time before he can come right out and say something, but we both know where his heart is, yes? I don't want him to see me flirting with one of the Orlesians and think that there is anything real about it. It would hurt him deeply."

"You're right, Leli. Inside that strong warrior is a very fragile heart. Hopefully it will be strong enough soon to be able to tell you how he feels."

"Until that time I must be patient and understanding. In the long run, he is worth every moment that I wait." The bard smiled sweetly as the two women walked to Delia's quarters.

Once the wardens were in the closed study, Alistair poured each man a glass of Antivan brandy and sat at his desk. The room had a great deal of Ferelden history, having been his father's favorite room in the palace during his life. Cailan had disliked the room because of the memories of his father that seemed to ooze from the very stone, but Alistair simply liked it because it was decorated simply yet comfortably. He had added his own touches to the walls as well, hanging Duncan's shield in back of his desk and a tapestry of a high dragon on the wall facing it.

As the men savored the beverage, Gerod cleared his throat. "We should get down to the business at hand. It was quite a shock, you must understand, to arrive here in Denerim expecting certain information about the defeat of the archdemon only to find that the man you claim slaughtered the beast is still living. It goes against everything we wardens have known for centuries. Would one of you care to explain?" He looked at Alistair and Aeden smugly as he took another sip of brandy.

Aeden looked straight at the older man. "Alistair and I were the only two Grey Wardens to survive the Battle of Ostagar. The two of us along with Queen Delia, who was a warden recruit, and the other misfits we seemed to accumulate along our journey took the ancient Grey Warden treaties with the Dwarves or Orzammar, the Dalish Elves and Circle of Magi to create a massed army to defeat the Blight. Loghain, the former Regent of Ferelden, had caused the defeat at Ostagar when he abandoned King Cailan and the wardens during the battle, and when he took the throne for himself we decided we needed the only other living son of King Maric to become king instead. That is why we forced a Landsmeet and Alistair won the crown after Loghain's long list of depravities against the people of Ferelden was brought to light. Riordan was discovered as a prisoner of Loghain and Rendon Howe, and once we freed him he joined us. So yes, we started the final battle against the archdemon with three wardens. Riordan died when he fell off the dragon in flight, but he was able to hobble the monster's wing so it couldn't fly and we could battle it on the ground. Alistair took the final blow and did indeed die in the process."

"And then how is it that he is alive? Hmmmm? There is something you are not telling me." Gerod's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Elyon nodded quickly. "And why aren't you tainted, _King Alistair_?" His words dripped in sarcasm.

Alistair calmly looked at the two Orlesians. "First of all, I direct your attention to these documents. This is a list of all the wardens Warden Commander Duncan recruited in Ferelden. You will see here, on page two," he pointed to his own name, "that I am listed as a recruit from the Chantry, trained as a Templar."

"Hmmmmph," Gerod grunted. "Duncan certainly didn't recruit many people at all. Look at the length of time between his recruits."

Alistair tried to keep his anger in check. "If you remember your Ferelden history you will recall that there was a major rift between this country and the wardens. My father, King Maric, was the first king to allow the warden into Ferelden in centuries of exile. My people had little knowledge of the order, and what they knew was distrust. Most wardens who came here were from Orlais, and after the Orlesian occupation and the way Ferelden was treated during that time my people have a difficult time finding any reason to trust anyone from your country."

"Yes, yes, I am quite aware of the enmity between our countries," Gerod exclaimed while he circled his hand in boredom. He leaned forward toward Alistair, his eyes gleaming in his disgust for the man. "All this proves is that a man fitting your description took the Joining. You are not tainted. How can this be?"

"I suppose you can say that it is because of the actions of my wife that I am no longer tainted." As the Orlesians looked at him in disbelief he explained their quest to locate Andraste's sacred ashes and how they cured Arl Eamon Guerrin from the poison that nearly killed him. Alistair then explained how Delia came to possess the Tears of Andraste, and how her dream with her grandfather told her what the Maker wished her to do after the archdemon was slain in order to save Ferelden from the ravages of the taint.

"When Delia followed the Maker's wishes rather than save me, he took pity on her and brought me back to life anyway. We realized the following day that I no longer bore the taint. I suppose it's because I was reborn in a way. I am only alive today because of the Maker's mercy and his miraculous ways, and I am the most thankful man in all of Thedas."

Gerod looked at the king suspiciously. How could that story be disputed? There was no logical explanation that could impugn what the man said without causing trouble with the Chantry, and the Grey Wardens did not need the Exalted Mother to stand against them.

"I suppose you have people who would be willing to swear to your identity? That you are who you say you are?"

Aeden sat straight in his chair. "As the son of Teyrn Bryce Cousland and the brother of the current Teyrn of Highever, Fergus Cousland, you need no other word than mine. I give you my solemn oath that Alistair was indeed tainted, that he has been a Grey Warden since before I took my own Joining, and that it was me that discovered he had lost the taint after he killed the archdemon in front of me. I will, however, write the names of our companions for you, should you wish to question any of them. Wynne, Senior Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, would be able to corroborate everything I have just told you as she was present at Ostagar when I undertook my own Joining, determined that Alistair was indeed the brother of King Cailan, and tested Alistair after he recovered from slaying the archdemon."

"Then I shall speak to this Wynne tomorrow. As for now," he continued as he stood, "I believe we need a decent night's rest. We shall continue tomorrow."

As Elyon followed his mentor out the door, Alistair looked at Aeden. "Well, I suppose that could have gone better."

Aeden chuckled. "It also could have gone far worse. He may not wish to believe the truth, but since the truth won't change he can't dispute it." He saw the worried look in Alistair's eyes and knew his friend was concerned about what the wardens would think of his wife's connection to the story. "Go and be with your wife. This will all work itself out, Alistair."

Alistair nodded tiredly. "I'll see you at breakfast then?" he said as he stood to leave.

"Of course, _Your Majesty._ I wouldn't dream of missing it." Aeden smiled teasingly, knowing how much Alistair hated when his friends spoke to him formally.

As they parted for the night, Alistair ran his hand through his hair nervously. Somehow he felt that these particular wardens were not looking out solely for the interests of their order, but he wasn't sure how to protect the people he loved. They would work it out as they went along like they always did, that was one thing he had faith in. Perhaps it was time to work out strategy with his wife. She always had knack for making everything better.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Huge thanks to Liso66 and Mackillion for their help with this chapter!_**

Chapter 3: Another War?

Delia was sitting in the garden contemplating the conversation she had with Alistair the night before. It seemed that the Orlesian wardens weren't going to take the word of the Ferelden wardens without a fight. She wished her husband didn't have court matters to attend to this morning, but the sun felt good on her back and the morning was cool. It was nice to have a chance to enjoy the tranquility of the garden before she needed to attend to her own duties. She had already practiced her stances, as she did every morning, although she had to modify her routine to accommodate her growing girth.

She heard the door to the garden open and shut, and the crunch of footsteps as they approached on the gravel path. Delia turned to see who it was and frowned when she saw that it was Gerod. He was the last person she wanted to be alone with and his presence spoiled her mood.

"Ah, Your Majesty, I can't tell you how pleased I am to find you here. Perhaps you would indulge me with a conversation? You are a fascinating woman." He bowed in front of her, taking her hand to kiss her knuckles.

Delia felt her skin crawl as she gently removed her hand from his grasp. "What would you like to talk about, Warden Gerod? I can't imagine that I would be of interest to someone as traveled as you are." She watched him cautiously as he sat on the bench next to her.

"Au contraire, my lady; you are a very interesting person indeed. I cannot say that I have ever met a noble woman who willingly allowed herself to be recruited to the Grey Wardens, especially when they were formally educated."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "It was my understanding that there were never many women in the Grey Wardens at all, much less noble born. Given the circumstances at the time, I felt it was the best decision for me."

He looked at her curiously. "And what were the circumstances? They must have been dire."

Chuckling softly, Delia grinned sadly. "You could say that. My family was visiting Aeden's family in Highever when his family was betrayed by Arl Rendon Howe. Nearly everyone in the castle was slaughtered, including Aeden's family and my mother. We didn't know at the time that my brother had been taken captive so we believed him to be dead as well. Warden Commander Duncan saved us on the condition that Aeden was conscripted into the wardens. My prospects after my mother's death were slim, so I begged Duncan to allow me to join the wardens. I had to work very hard to learn my fighting skills, but I proved myself to him and he allowed me to join."

"I see," Gerod answered gingerly, "but then how is it that you never had your Joining? Wouldn't you have been part of the same ceremony as Aeden?"

Nodding, Delia continued. "I was supposed to participate; however, I had been severely injured after a wolf attack and was recovering. Duncan was going to have a separate Joining for me after Ostagar, but it never happened for obvious reasons."

"So, does that mean you intend to have your Joining? We could arrange it while we are here."

She looked at him incredulously. "I can't believe that you would suggest such a thing. If you hadn't noticed, I am pregnant with the heir to Ferelden. I know enough about the Joining to know that it might kill me, and I will never put my child at risk. I believe that my path in life was never to actually become a Grey Warden, but I do not regret my part in defeating the Blight."

Gerod's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes, after all now _you_ are the Queen of Ferelden. That is an amazing achievement for a woman born of a lesser Bann. You seem to have quite a knack for positioning yourself to your advantage. Perhaps we could be of use to each other…"

Delia slapped him. "How dare you insinuate that I have manipulated my marriage? You know nothing about me or Alistair, nor do you know what our group went through to save our country."

"Come now, if you studied in Antiva I am certain you have learned the ways of politics," he declared as he rubbed his cheek. "I am not foolish enough to think your marriage could be due to anything other than your personal arrangement." He stood and started to pace. "Let me make myself perfectly clear. You have somehow convinced the nobles of the Landsmeet to accept your puppet king and your stories of his battle glories, but you cannot convince the Grey Wardens that this man was ever the Alistair conscripted by Duncan."

"I know that you don't believe what happened after the battle with the archdemon, but it is the truth."

"And how will you prove that, my dear? Your _husband_ does not have the taint of a Grey Warden. There is no possible way to prove he is Warden Alistair."

Delia looked him square in the eye. "If you would bother to check, we have impeccable witnesses. Any of the soldiers who fought on the roof of Fort Drakon will tell you what they saw of who killed the archdemon, who died, and how Alistair happens to be alive. Senior Enchanter Wynne was there, as well as First Enchanter Irving."

At the mention of Irving, Gerod seemed surprised. "Irving knows the story? And how could it be that he knows _Warden_ Alistair at all?"

"The Circle Tower had a takeover staged by a senior mage named Uldred. He used blood magic to summon demons in order to control the mages. The Circle nearly was destroyed by the Templars in response because Knight Commander Greagoir requested a Rite of Annulment. Instead, Aeden convinced Greagoir to permit our group to cleanse the tower of the demons and save the mages. Irving was held captive by Uldred and was freed by the two wardens, Wynne and Sten, a Qunari warrior who fought with us during the Blight."

"And you say that Irving was a witness to the events during the slaying of the archdemon and afterward?"

"Yes, he brought mages to fight alongside us as part of the army formed by Aeden and Alistair based on the ancient Grey Warden treaties located in the Korcari Wilds."

This changed things for Gerod. He was familiar with Irving as the First Enchanter was permitted to visit the Circle Tower in Orlais. Gerod met the man on his last visit several years before when their visits coincided.

"Your Majesty, I shall send a courier to the First Enchanter to confirm what you have told me. I warn you, should I find that you have lied to me at any time during this conversation, the consequences shall be severe."

Delia's eyes flashed in anger. "You have no jurisdiction over me or any other Fereldan and as such cannot threaten me this way!"

He narrowed his eyes and moved close to her, so close that his torso nearly touched hers as his frame towered above her. "I am the Warden Commander of Orlais, and as there is no official order of Grey Wardens in Ferelden I am the presumptive authority. You are a recruit and your _husband _and his _friend_ are wardens of no title, therefore you are indeed under my authority until such time as a different order comes from Weisshaupt itself." He pointed his finger in front of her face, nearly touching her nose. "Do not toy with me, _Delia_. You will learn your place."

Delia's anger lashed out and she grabbed the man's arm, deftly twisting it quickly behind his back and forcing him to his knees. "And may I remind you that I am the Queen of Ferelden. I am certain that your superiors in Weisshaupt will be quite angry when they are informed of your treatment and threats on Ferelden's Queen and her unborn child."

Suddenly a rush of footsteps seemed to surround the two as Leliana pulled Delia away from Gerod and Alistair punched the warden soundly on his jaw, causing Gerod to fall to the ground, stunned. The king's fury seemed to radiate from him as he restrained himself from pummeling the warden.

"I dare you to stand up, Gerod. You may be able to bully my wife, but you would not survive a fistfight with me, especially not now." Alistair's rage filled eyes never left Gerod's as the senior warden lay on the ground, and the Orlesian made no attempt to stand.

"I shall not fight you, King Alistair. It was never my intention to… offend either you or your wife." The words seemed to hiss out of Gerod's mouth as his eyes burned with his internal anger.

"Leave my sight, _Warden Gerod_. I will send for you and your second after lunch. Until then, neither of you will speak to any of my people with the exception of requests you may have of the servants assigned to you needs. You will take your lunch in your quarters as well. Do I make myself clear?"

Gerod nodded slowly. "Yes, _Your Majesty_," he growled submissively.

Alistair turned to the guards who had followed him into the garden. "You two escort Warden Gerod to his quarters and keep a watch on both him and Warden Elyon. They are not to leave their quarters until I personally send for them."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the men responded together. One of the two guards helped Gerod to stand. Gerod brushed the dirt off his breeches, nodded to the king and strode confidently to the door followed by the guards.

Alistair turned immediately to his wife, grasping her upper arms in his hands. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No, Alistair, he is simply an extremely rude and insulting man who tried to intimidate me. When he tried to dwarf me and use his sheer bulk to terrify me, I decided to use another one of Duncan's rogue techniques to bring him to his knees, quite literally. I don't think he will underestimate me again."

Alistair gently took her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "He won't have the chance. Right now I will send a messenger to Weisshaupt to inform them of the plan that Aeden and I created for the establishment of an Order of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Come with me, love. You can help the two of us with the wording of our missive." He smiled mischievously. "That is, of course, unless you would rather force the rest of us to our knees. Perhaps you would like us to worship you as Ferelden's newest war goddess?"

Delia stuck her tongue out at her husband, earning hearty laughter from him as well as their friends.

Alistair led his wife to his study, followed by Leliana and Aeden. They sat in the stuffed chairs near the fireplace facing each other.

"Sooo, Aeden, why don't you explain what our discussion entailed this morning?" Alistair poured glasses of water for each of them and, as he leaned back into his chair, Delia placed her hand on top of his.

"Alistair and I were talking about the need for a Grey Warden presence here in Ferelden, but we certainly do not want Gerod to be in charge. Our plans are to dedicate Vigil's Keep as the warden stronghold and have the Arling of Amaranthine under control of a Ferelden Warden Commander."

Delia raised an eyebrow. "And who would this Warden Commander be? I hope not another power hungry Orlesian!"

Alistair chuckled. "No, I had a far better idea. The Ferelden wardens need to be led by a Ferelden, so I intend for Aeden to be the Commander as well as the Arl. He earned it, as far as I'm concerned, by taking the leadership role after Duncan was killed. Aeden also has the Ferelden credentials and training to be an arl in his own right, and he would be reporting to his brother the Teyrn which would help the people feel even more at ease with his rule. Weisshaupt could send wardens in from other countries until Aeden could recruit enough native Fereldens. I can't imagine Weisshaupt would object, especially when I explain Gerod's inappropriate behavior."

Aeden nodded in agreement. "The wardens will want a presence here, and I think they won't be able to refuse our offer, especially since we defeated the Blight without their help."

Delia smiled broadly. "I think it's a brilliant idea! Amaranthine needs an arl now that Howe is dead, and Aeden would be a perfect choice. The people know him and will respect his name as well as his work uniting the country against the darkspawn."

The four spent the rest of the morning discussing and writing a proper letter to the Warden Commander of Weisshaupt Fortress. They carefully crafted their words, being certain to sound hopeful about a future for the wardens in Ferelden while warning that any attempt by wardens like Gerod to interfere with the business of the country could damage the tenuous relationship between the two entities that was rekindled by King Maric. Once they were satisfied with their document, Alistair sent for Teagan for his perusal. Finally the wording was agreed to by all five of them and a messenger was called to the room. He was given orders to take the fastest route to Weisshaupt and return with their answer as quickly as possible.

As the messenger bowed and headed straight off to find a ship, the king looked at his friends and sighed. "After lunch I'll have to send the Orlesians back to Orlais. Gerod will give me trouble about it I'm certain, so I intend to have them accompanied by one of my regiments to the docks and hire a ship to immediately get them out of our country."

Aeden readily agreed. "By your leave, Alistair, I will see them to the docks along with the regiment." His lips curled into a mischievous grin. "I can't wait to hear the Orlesian expletives that come from their mouths!"

The five walked to the dining room and sat with Zevran and Trent. Alistair and Aeden described what had happened with the Orlesian wardens, and of course neither man was pleased to learn about their bullying tactics. Trent agreed to have a regiment readied and to arrange for the wardens' sendoff to seem celebratory in nature rather than their being forcibly removed.

Zevran sat quietly as his friends discussed Gerod's party's departure. One of the events that troubled him the most was the fact that Gerod had nearly accosted Delia in her own garden. The assassin had been too preoccupied by other details to guard her personally, and he needed to make certain that nothing like that ever happened again. An idea started to percolate in his mind as he thought about the many acquaintances in Denerim he had been familiarizing himself with of late.

After their meal was over, Trent left to ready his men while Alistair led the others to the great hall. The king and queen took their seats on the thrones as Teagan, Aeden, Leliana and Zevran took their places at the side at the advisors' tables. Alistair asked a page to summon Gerod and Elyon. As they waited for their arrival Teagan started the day's audiences.

There were only a few disputes to hear and the daily business was finished relatively quickly. When the court herald announced the arrival of the wardens, Alistair visibly stiffened. Delia put her hand on his in support and gently smiled. Alistair returned the smile, but he didn't relax.

Gerod strode purposefully down the center aisle of the great room; Elyon following just behind his commander. The Orlesian's facial expression showed his personal anger and frustration and it was obvious that the man had not managed to handle the new royalty the way he had intended. Delia was actually fascinated by the man's lack of control. Even though she had tried to gather information about the warden with her talents since he arrived at the palace, his self-restraint had hindered her efforts. Now the warden was so flustered that his guard was down and she took full advantage of the opportunity.

"_Gerod was the youngest son of a lesser Orlesian noble… He was destined to become a simple knight in service to his father's superior, yet craved to rule his own lands… he attacked the daughter of his leige and was to be put to death, but was conscripted instead because of his prowess in battle… Power is what he wants above all else, and he uses it like a weapon… We have to hope that Weisshaupt can contain him; his goal is to command all Grey Wardens and have his own empire… Maker, protect us all from this tyrant!"_

Delia shuddered so harshly that Alistair reached for her hand. "Are you alright?" His eyes conveyed his worry as he tried to assess what was troubling her.

"I'm fine, Alistair," she whispered. "Let's just finish this so that we can speak alone."

He nodded briefly and turned his attention back to the wardens. Gerod approached the thrones and bowed with a flourish, a smirk on his face.

"We are here as you have summoned, _King Alistair_. I can _hardly_ wait to hear what you have to say to us." His eyes passed across the king and queen, obviously furious that he was no longer in control of the situation at hand.

Alistair used his Templar training to remain unnaturally calm. With a smile to his wife, he looked Gerod squarely in the eye as he stood, towering over the Orlesian wardens from the podium. "Warden Commander Gerod, based upon the behavior exhibited by yourself to my wife, the Queen of Ferelden, it is my decision that you shall leave Ferelden immediately."

"What? You have no right to deport us!" Gerod was incensed.

Alistair simply raised an eyebrow as he continued, his body language exuding confidence. "I am the King of Ferelden and have every right to deport any non-Ferelden that I please, especially those who have insulted and threatened the crown." His lips curled into an angry smile. "Don't worry, Gerod, I have already sent word to Weisshaupt so that they will know what you have done. I expect that it won't be long after your return to Val Royeaux before you hear from the commanders there. There is every reason to believe they will be most displeased that you have singlehandedly set relations backward for the Grey Wardens having a relationship with Ferelden."

With a nod to his herald, the doors opened and eight members of the Royal Guard entered the room in formation. "Warden Commander Gerod, you are hereby deported from Ferelden by Royal Proclamation. You and your men shall be escorted to the Denerim docks, where you have been booked passage on a ship named The Merchant's Hope which will take you directly to Val Royeaux. Mind you, should you try to convince the Captain by _any means_ to take you to any other port; he is under strict orders to kill every warden aboard."

Gerod's face flushed in astonishment. "You would dare kill my men?"

Teagan glared at the Orlesian. "Must you again be reminded that you are in Ferelden? According to the laws of our country, you have committed treason against the queen. We could insist that you were executed; however, since both Alistair and Aeden are themselves Grey Wardens, we are actually giving you a rare mercy. There is a saying here in Ferelden, do not look a gift horse in the mouth. You are being given the opportunity to return home. Don't take it lightly. Go peacefully and you will have no troubles."

Alistair waved his hand and the guard moved forward, surrounding the two wardens. "Allow them to pack their belongings. Send half the regiment to their encampment. Inform the rest of the Wardens that they are leaving. Give them ample time to pack and meet their commander at the docks under the supervision of our guard. As soon as Gerod and Elyon are packed, remove them from the palace. They can wait for their men at the ship. Never leave their sides, not for a moment."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The regiment captain saluted the king.

Before Gerod turned to leave, he glared at Alistair one last time. "You may think you have won here, but it is only one battle. You have not won the war, so to speak."

Alistair laughed. "I'm certain that Weisshaupt would just _love_ hearing you declare war against the Ferelden king." He waved his hand again at the guards. "Get these men out of my sight."

The guard escorted Gerod and Elyon from the room in silence. When the doors finally closed behind them Alistair relaxed and sat back down.

"When is the ship supposed to depart?" he asked Zevran.

"They leave with the tide late this afternoon. The captain is well known to me and is a man we can trust. Have no worries, my friend."

Alistair ran his hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, Zev, I am worried. He doesn't seem like the kind of man who will follow the orders of his superiors." He looked at Delia questioningly. "Were you able to 'see' anything?"

Delia nodded slowly. "I'm afraid we may see him again, love. His ambition is to be an emperor through the Grey Wardens. I hope that Weisshaupt has noticed his behavior already and what he's done here will simply be the last nail in his coffin."

"Grrrreat. Is this what we get for defeating the archdemon? Yet another war with Orlais?" Alistair tried to keep his sense of humor, but he was beginning to think he should never have become the king.

Aeden chuckled. "No, not with Orlais, only with the Grey Wardens. But, hey, we defeated the Blight, what are a few Grey Wardens to us?"

The group tried to relax, but every one of them felt the same concern. Somehow they needed to keep their country safe. Hopefully Weisshaupt would see things differently than Gerod, and Ferelden would remain safe.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Protection

Zevran slipped out of the palace after Alistair and Delia retired to their quarters for the night. Of the many people he had recently met in Denerim, there was a particular woman he wished to locate. Carefully he skimmed through the shadows of the city, making his way to an area southeast of The Pearl. When he arrived at his destination, a seedy tavern named The Bawdy Bard; he walked inside and took a seat in a private booth away from most of the customers.

It wasn't long before the serving wench approached. "Ah, Master Aranai, how nice it is to see you tonight. What's your poison?" She was a young elf, actually rather plain by elven standards, but with beautiful blond hair carefully wrapped in a bun and piercing green eyes.

Zevran smiled warmly at the young woman. "Ah, my dear Elizabeth; you are a sight for sore eyes indeed. I would like a bottle of your finest Antivan brandy, two glasses, and for you to give this sovereign to your employer so that you and I may have a private conversation."

She raised an eyebrow. "Now, sir, you know that he doesn't rent rooms here. Not for _that_ at any rate…"

He smiled at her luridly. "Actually, I only wish to speak to you, although I would never turn away such a _delectable_ woman should she be of a mind. I have a business proposition for you; an employment opportunity that I believe you would be most interested in pursuing."

"Alright, I will be right back with that brandy and your purchased time."

She walked to the bar and spoke quickly with the owner of the tavern. The man was middle aged, portly and balding, with a jagged scar down the side of his face. Somehow he still managed to seem protective of the elven girl, and he frowned as he looked at Zevran. Elizabeth handed him the sovereign as she seemed to reassure him. He looked at her sadly as seemed to relent and give his wary approval. After retrieving a bottle and two glasses, she returned to Zevran's table, sitting across from him with her face betraying no emotion whatsoever.

"Alright, Zevran, what is it you want from me? Have you changed your mind? Are you going to turn me in?" Even as her face remained placid, her voice quivered ever so slightly, betraying her internal fears.

Zevran grinned reassuringly. "Never, my dear. You and I are cut from the same cloth, so to speak. I am actually here to offer you a position that would be mutually beneficial. I have a very close friend who is in need of the special talents you possess; your fighting skills, your stealth, your ability to procure information…"

"And how close is this friend?" she asked questioningly.

"She is like a sister to me. Someone I both respect… and care for. I need someone I can trust to be her personal guardian, someone who can walk by her side in situations where I am unable as a man. Should you fill that position it would not only benefit my friend, but you would be in a position where no one would dare try to lay a finger on you even if they realized who you are."

"I am… intrigued. Who is this person you want me to assist?"

"Would you believe, she is the Queen of Ferelden?" he said softly as he leaned across the table.

Elizabeth's interest was piqued. The position could be perfect for her. Nobility often had ladies-in-waiting who would attend to their more personal needs and it would stand to reason that the queen might need someone more versed in the feudal crafts instead of the creative arts. If she were to take the position, she would live in the palace; earning her far more safety than anyone else could possibly provide.

"Why would the queen trust someone like me? And how is it that you are such good friends with the likes of her?"

"You know my story, my dear. I left the Crows for the king and queen and have never regretted it. They trust me, and would trust my judgment without question. I would have you interview with the queen herself so that she could get an idea if you would work well with her. I have no doubt in that regard. It would merely be a formality, of that, I am certain."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she tried to decide whether to trust Zevran or not. Her previous experiences with Antivan Crows had never been positive; however, this man had only been truthful with her up until now. He could have betrayed her many times over. Yet, he had only asked her for information and paid her handsomely for it.

"Alright, Zevran, I will meet the queen and we will see how the cards play out." She reached her hand across the table to shake his hand, and he readily clasped it while a huge grin played ear to ear across his face.

"You shall not regret this, my dear. I believe this is the beginning of a very valuable working relationship." He handed her a letter of introduction and gave her instructions on where and when to meet him in the morning. Then, with a bow, he said goodnight to her and slipped back into the shadows to return to the palace.

Morning brought the normal routine to the palace. Breakfast was served in the dining room and the palace residents enjoyed their conversations before their daily work would demand their full attention. During the meal, Zevran sat with the royal couple. When the conversation inevitably turned to the business of the day, Zevran made an unusual request.

"My dear Alistair, would you be able to carve time into your busy morning schedule? There is someone I would like you and your lovely wife to meet. I believe she could be the solution to our delightful Delia's security problems."

Alistair focused on the elf. "Oh? Tell me more about her."

"She is someone whom I have had a long standing acquaintance with, from Antiva. Her skills are many, but what will be most useful about her is that she could protect our queen in situations where it would be… unseemly for a man, such as myself."

Delia chuckled. "An acquaintance from Antiva, would this be another Crow friend?"

"No, my dearest Delia, however she does have… ties to the organization. She has knowledge of many of their fighting techniques and is quite talented in information gathering."

"Not a Crow, but knows how to fight like one? How can that be? I thought they kept their training a secret." Alistair looked confused as he watched Zevran's facial expression change to something he had never seen before. The elf seemed to pity this woman for some reason.

"I will not tell her story, for it is not my story to tell. What I will tell you is that she was a slave, owned by my Crow Master. She escaped from Antiva not long before we defeated the archdemon and entered Denerim as we strove to rebuild. Her life has been very difficult, in many ways far more difficult than my own." There was sadness in his eyes his friends had never seen before; not even when he told them of his love, Rinna.

Delia looked sadly at the floor. This woman had been an Antivan slave, which would most likely mean she was an orphaned elf much like Zevran. She had heard stories about the brutalities such elven women would suffer from their masters, and her heart broke for the women she hadn't even met.

Alistair looked at Teagan. "I'm certain we can make time to meet with this woman. Would you please work out the details with Zev?"

Teagan nodded. "Yes, of course, Alistair."

The king stood and gently kissed the top of his wife's head. "I'm afraid I have to start today's business. I will see you later this morning, my love."

Delia sadly watched as her husband walked away; followed by Aeden, Dusty, Teagan and Zevran. Now she needed to find something, _anything,_ to keep occupied for the rest of the morning. Watching Dairren walk out of the dining room gave her an idea. She would go to the library and help him, whether he liked it or not.

Standing up was starting to be an exercise in itself for Delia. Pregnancy was no longer a novelty – it was a nuisance! As much as Delia longed to hold her child in her arms, she hated feeling like she had lost herself in the process. Her body no longer wanted to move the way she was used to and she needed to readjust her balance every day. And then, there was the never ending kicking… Sometimes she felt like little Duncan would kick his way through her very flesh!

She called Griffon to her side and walked through the palace hallways to the library. As she walked past the guards, she always tried to speak to each one by name. Already, it had helped earn the respect of the men who appreciated her effort to know each person. It was nice to see the men smile as she passed them, instead of their expressions of fear they used to show. Back then the men had no reason to believe the king and queen would treat them fairly or respectfully. Over the months, the two had proven themselves to the warriors and had earned their complete loyalty.

As Delia rounded the final corner, she heard her brother arguing with a woman. She hurried into the room to see what the problem was.

"Maker's breath, Anna, I keep telling you how the books need to be sorted and arranged. Will you _please_ stop putting them back on the shelves randomly?" Dairren pleaded as he removed a stack of books from a shelf and placed it back on a table.

Anna, the castle historian, rolled her eyes as she picked up the books and returned them to the same shelf. "And I have told _you_ that this is the shelf where these books are kept. You can't possibly expect the staff to find these books anywhere else in this room than where they've always been!"

Delia made her way across the room to Dairren. "Hello, brother!" she said cheerily.

"Delia!" He hugged her warmly and pulled a chair from a table for her. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence in my humble library?"

She chuckled softly as she sat. "I was bored and thought you would like an assistant; however, I see you already have one." She smiled at Anna, but the woman simply crossed her arms with a scowl.

"It is worthless helping a man as pig headed as your brother. He simply won't listen to reason."

Dairren threw his hands in the air. "_You're_ calling _me_ pig headed? I have been trying to organize the texts according to accepted scholarly practice and every time I move a book from where she _believes_ it belongs she takes it and moves it back. I can't make any progress when she undoes everything I do."

Anna frowned at him. "If you move every text from where it was, how is anyone supposed to find the book they need when they need it? For example, this book," she held up a book about war strategies, "is referred to often by the guard commanders. They know they can find it next to the first window. If you move it across the room midway between the doors, how will they ever locate it again?"

Dairren ran his hand anxiously through his hair. "Easily, every book will be cataloged by title, author and subject matter; its location in the library will be noted down to the very shelf. This way, when a book is borrowed it can be returned to its proper place. There is also an accepted order of subject matter. If you would _allow_ me to organize this room properly, any scholar could find any text they needed in a matter of minutes."

"Considering our warriors are not scholars, why should they need to become one? The palace library has worked this way for generations. There is no need to change it," she stated adamantly.

Delia sighed. There were good reasons to keep the library the way it had always been, yet to organize it the way they had been taught in Antiva had many benefits. "Dairren, have you shown Anna how the books will be cataloged? Perhaps if she understood the system she would see how useful it is to scholars and non-scholars alike."

Both Anna and Dairren huffed and protested, but Delia motioned for them both to sit. Dairren took a piece of parchment and showed Anna what information would be on the sheet. As he explained how the texts would be cross referenced, Anna's eyes opened wide.

"So, if someone were looking for a book on military strategy they could also find books on related subject matter, such as armor used for certain situations?"

Dairren relaxed. "Precisely, they simply need to refer to the master catalog and then they can locate the texts needed quickly rather than searching for an entire afternoon."

Anna squinted at him, her nose wrinkling in a way that he found surprisingly cute for a woman who had been incessantly annoying. "What if someone is sent here on an errand for a superior and they are illiterate? How will they find the books then?"

"That is what my job is, to help anyone who requires information from the library find the information they need. Whether it is a book on armaments, history, or simply a novel to be read during their leisure time, once I have the catalog finished, every book will be easy to locate." For the first time since Delia arrived, Dairren had a smile on his face.

"So, Anna, what do you think now? Will you help Dairren organize the books the way he wishes?" Delia looked at her historian. The woman was so young for such a stuffy position, and she had seemed a strange selection for the job. Yet the woman took her work seriously and never seemed to let her guard down.

"Perhaps it will work. I reserve the right to insist on changes if there are complaints in the future." She stood up and looked at Dairren. "What do you want me to do?"

He motioned to the books stacked on the table that had been removed from the shelf. "Would you please put those back where I had placed them?"

Delia hadn't had much contact with the historian during their time at the palace. She knew Anna was well versed in the palace artifacts and history. She was diligent in her duties. Delia allowed her talent to wander in order to understand Anna better.

"_Anna was the youngest child and only daughter of a low level Bann from outside of Lothering… Howe took her from her father's home to ensure the man's loyalty and forced her to work in the palace… Her knowledge of history made her useful and kept her relatively safe… When her family and lands were destroyed during the Blight, she no longer had anyone to return to… She fears being cast out of the palace and trying to fend for herself…"_

Delia struggled to keep her feelings in check. This poor woman was in a position that was very similar to her own before the Blight and she was moved by her inner strength.

"Anna…" she called across the room.

The historian turned around, still holding several books in her arms. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I never seem to have an opportunity to tell you how much we appreciate everything you do here at the palace. You have always been so helpful whenever we've needed assistance with the historical artifacts. I'll never forget how wonderful you were when Alistair and I needed to choose crowns for our coronations. Thank you for your service."

Anna was surprised. No one at the palace had ever complimented her on her work. Her face seemed to relax just a small amount, but she did manage to smile at her queen. "Thank you, my lady. That was most… unexpected, but very much appreciated."

Delia looked at her brother with a warm smile. "What can I do to help you, my dear brother? Perhaps I can write some catalog entries?"

Just as he was about to answer her, a page entered the room. "Ah, Your Majesty, I have been searching for you. Your presence is requested in the Royal Study."

"Well, I suppose that settles that. Perhaps I'll rejoin you two later," she said apologetically.

Dairren assisted her as she stood and gave her a warm hug. "I would love to see you again later, my dear sister, but please do not strain yourself."

She smiled at him sadly, feeling dismissed like a dog who's owner just had no time to give them a scratch. With a sigh she left the room and walked to the study, her own neglected dog walking at her side.

Alistair, Teagan, Aeden and Leliana were waiting in the study when she arrived. Almost as soon as she sat, the door opened again allowing Zevran and an elven girl to enter. As the royal couple nodded in acknowledgement of their arrival, Zevran bowed and the woman curtsied deeply. Even in the simple clothes she wore, she was able to display knowledge of court customs that seemed far greater than her age.

Alistair motioned for them to stand. "Please, in this room we are informal. Why don't you both take a seat and make yourselves comfortable."

The woman looked at Zevran who nodded his assent, and she sat in a chair near Delia.

"My friends, this is Elizabeth. She is the woman I spoke to you about earlier." Zevran smiled knowingly, making Elizabeth nervous about what he was trying to convey.

Alistair smiled at the girl. "Well met, Elizabeth. Zevran has told us you are a longtime acquaintance of his. How do you like Denerim?"

Elizabeth nervously wrung her hands together. "Denerim has been very good to me, Your Majesty. I am very lucky to be here."

Zevran laughed. "Very lucky indeed! I can only imagine the adventure you had, my dear friend."

Delia smiled at Elizabeth as she tried to make the girl more at ease. "Zevran has been a very good friend to us, and if he says you are trustworthy, we believe him. Would you mind telling me what skills you possess for the position as my personal attendant?"

"Not at all, Your Majesty. I grew up in Antiva, the slave of a Crow master. As such, I have been taught combat techniques as I was a… training tool for the apprentices. I am a master of daggers and stealth. I was also trained as a courtier, so I am knowledgeable of proper court etiquette for not only the Antivan royalty, but Orlesian as well." Her face suddenly looked grim. "Unfortunately, my knowledge of the Ferelden court is quite limited."

Delia put her hand on the elf's. "That is not a problem, as I spent most of my life studying at the university in Antiva City. It shouldn't surprise anyone in this country if I had an Antivan lady-in-waiting."

Delia allowed her talent to flow over the elf. She learned that she had, indeed been the slave of Zevran's Crow master. The horrors Elizabeth had been forced to suffer at her master's hands were extensive. Delia didn't allow her talent to explore further. Some things were better left unknown. The most important thing she learned about Elizabeth was that she wanted to be safe, and her heart was still trusting. Her heart actually reminded Delia of Zevran's. Somehow, even after all the pain he had been through, he still searched for ways to be connected to the people he cared about.

Delia looked at Alistair and nodded at him with a smile. "I think Elizabeth is exactly who I need, don't you, my love?"

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing her gently. "Seeing as you are the person who I trust the most; if you feel comfortable with her, my love, I do as well." He looked at Elizabeth and smiled warmly. "Welcome to our merry band, Elizabeth. I'm certain you will have quite an adventure."

Elizabeth smiled guardedly. "Thank you, Your Majesties. I hope to be everything you expect."

Delia patted her hand gently. This girl needed a purpose almost as much as Delia needed someone to help protect her. "I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship," she said as she smiled at her new lady-in-waiting.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Elizabeth's Arrival

Elizabeth quickly made her way back to The Bawdy Bard. There was no doubt in her mind that her friend, Sebastian, would be happy for her. He was the person who discovered the elven stowaway on their way to Denerim. The poor man had lost everything he had; not that it was much, to an accident of fate. Bandits had raided his village, killing his wife and daughter. Sebastian himself was severely wounded. When he was strong enough to travel, he left his village behind forever, setting sail for a new life in Denerim. Not only had Sebastian found the terrified girl, he protected her. ehe He settled things with the boat's captain, paying her passage and sharing his own tiny room with her. When they arrived in Denerim he pretended she was his own servant. They earned their employment at the dirty tavern easily, since the owner gained two workers for only a fourth increase of Sebastian's salary.

Sebastian would apologize to his young friend often, wishing he could prevent the unwanted stares and touches of their low class clientele. Elizabeth knew that he thought of her like his own daughter. She appreciated the man's fatherly affection. No one had ever treated her with kindness before him, and she owed him more than her life.

Sebastian looked up when he heard the door to the tavern open. This hour of the afternoon was late for someone seeking a midday meal; his demeanor softened when he saw Elizabeth step inside.

"Ah, there you are. I was worried." His smile broadened as she walked up to him.

After kissing his cheek, she smiled. "I have a new job that I think you'll like."

"Is this the job the elf was talking with you about? There is something about that man that sets my teeth on edge…" He frowned as he remembered Zevran. The one thing good he could say about the man was that, although he was horribly flirtatious with Elizabeth, he had never laid a hand on her.

"Zevran is actually a better man than I even thought. It turns out he is employed by the king and queen; I am to be the queens personal assistant, posing as a lady-in-waiting of all things." Elizabeth laughed as she motioned to her dress. "I don't think I'll be wearing serving wench clothes anymore."

Sebastian's eyes filled with happy tears. He pulled her into a warm hug. "Ah, my dear, yes, I approve. No one would dare pester you while you are under the queen's employ. From what I've heard of her, she is a very fair person." He pushed her to arm's length and looked sadly into her eyes. "I will miss you, Elizabeth. You have become as important to me as if you were my own daughter."

"I will keep my ears open for a position for you. I'd rather have you closer to me, my dear friend."

He rubbed the tears from his eyes and went back to washing the tankards. "So, when are you leaving?"

"I need to pack now. The queen would like me there before supper."

Sebastian nodded slowly. "I can take a break after I finish washing these dishes. Why don't I escort you to the palace?"

Wrapping her arms from behind him, she put her cheek against his back. "Yes, I would like that very much."

She walked to their quarters and pulled out the small bag that served as her pack. There weren't many items that belonged to her, though; her pitiful possessions were packed carefully. She only owned two dresses, the one she was wearing and the one she slowly folded. After placing it into her bag, she opened the dresser drawer that contained her tattered smallclothes, she frowned with disgust. "I hope my earnings will be enough to replace these sorry scraps," she thought as she stuffed them into the bag. The only remaining item was her ring. It was a simple gold ring with a small emerald, the color of her eyes she had been told. Normally, she kept it hidden from the venue of clientele she dealt with from day-to-day. Cutting a length of twine; she tied it through the ring, placing it around her neck almost reverently.

It only took a few moments for her to finish, so she sat on the bed and looked around. Sebastian had his meager belongings scattered about the room. "_Well, at least now he'll sleep in a proper bed,"_ she thought as she looked at the pallet in the corner where Sebastian insisted on sleeping. The Maker had indeed blessed her the day he brought Sebastian into her life!

Elizabeth picked up her bag before walking back to the bar. Sebastian was drying what looked to be the last tankard as he smiled at her.

"Are you ready to go then, Elizabeth?" he asked quietly.

She nodded as she held her hand out to him. Sebastian walked to her side, took her hand, and kissed it softly on the knuckle. Taking her bag, he led her out into the streets of Denerim. The neighborhood was filled with all manner of men. Many of the women in the area were prostitutes; no one looked twice when Sebastian strode down the street with an elven woman on his arm. He knew which streets were safer than others, although, safe was always a relative term in this part of the city. Luckily, he had been working at the tavern long enough; he knew which men he needed to earn favor with. A few extra tankards of mead didn't hurt the owner's business, yet, it bought much needed protection.

They finally reached the gates of the palace; when the two tried to enter, they were stopped by the guard.

"What business do you have here, peasants?" the guard asked rudely.

"Bertram, mind your manners." Ser Trent walked up from behind the young guardsman. "It doesn't matter who approaches the gate. You are to treat everyone with the utmost respect. Do I make myself clear?"

Bertram angrily looked at his superior. "Yes, ser, I understand."

"Good. Now, why don't you try that again?" Trent smiled apologetically at the pair while he waited for Bertram to speak.

The guard raised the corner of his lip in a sneer and the tone of his voice betrayed his disgust. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today, my good people?"

Trent was not pleased with the man's demeanor. "Bertram, you are relieved of duty. Meet me in the armory." He looked to another guard. "Folgrim, take his position. I expect you will perform this duty with more respect for our citizens." Trent then turned back to Sebastian and Elizabeth with a slight bow. "I apologize for the rudeness of the guardsman. I am Ser Trent of His Majesty's Royal Guard. How may I help you?"

Sebastian was taken aback. Most soldiers he had known were barely civil to the regular folk. "Well, you see, Ser Trent, my friend here…"

Elizabeth stepped forward. "My name is Elizabeth. I have been hired by Queen Delia to be her personal attendant. Zevran told me the guard would be informed."

Trent's warm smile reassured both of them. "Ah, yes, Zevran explained everything to me. Queen Delia is expecting you. I believe she is in her garden. Would you allow me to escort you?" He held his arm out to her politely.

"I would be honored, Ser Trent. Just, please, give me a moment to say goodbye." As Trent nodded and took a step back, Elizabeth turned to her friend. Both had tears in their eyes. "Sebastian, I don't know what to say… Everything you've done for me…"

He put his finger against her lips to quiet her. "It was nothing, mi querida. I will always be here for you. Don't forget me."

She hugged him tightly. "I could never forget you, mi padre adoptivo. I will be in touch, I promise."

With that, she stepped away from Sebastian. As she walked up the stairs to the palace with Ser Trent, she turned around to wave at him one final time. He smiled at her, trying to convey that everything would be fine; knowing that his own heart was breaking again. Turning around, Sebastian started back to the tavern. At least he had a job, with food on his table and a roof over his head. All in all, his life wasn't all that bad. Without Elizabeth, however, he felt as though his one ray of sunshine was hidden by the clouds.

Ser Trent led Elizabeth through the palace hallways to the garden. She couldn't help but wonder how she would ever find her own way through the maze of corridors! Finally they reached the door to the garden and Trent gallantly held it open for her. Delia was sitting in the shade near the willow tree. In her hands she held some needlework. When she heard the door open, she looked up and smiled at Elizabeth and Trent.

"Trent! I see you've met Elizabeth. Welcome to the palace." Delia tried to stand, but Trent hurried to her and bade her to remain sitting.

"Delia, there is no reason for you to stand. Stay comfortable, my dear. Elizabeth will understand, I'm certain." Trent kissed her on the cheek, causing Elizabeth to raise an eyebrow.

Delia noticed the slight change of expression on the elf's face and laughed. "I think we've confused her already. Elizabeth, there are certain secrets that I expect you to keep. Will that be a problem?"

"No, my lady, I expect such whenever I work with nobility." She looked far too serious for Delia's taste.

"First of all, when we are in informal situations, I expect you will call me Delia." Seeing Elizabeth's mouth purse slightly, she placed her hand on the girl's in reassurance. "We prefer to be informal. I know that Alistair will insist that you call him by name as well. I noticed your… confusion about how Trent just addressed me as 'my dear'. He's allowed to do that because he is my father. Not my legal father, but the man who actually _is_ my father. No one knows it outside of our circle of family and friends; now that you are an important part of that circle you need to know too."

Delia held her hand out toward Trent so that he would help her to stand. "Why don't we get you settled in your new room, Elizabeth? Then we can work with the seamstress to start your wardrobe."

"My wardrobe?" Elizabeth looked at Delia curiously.

"Yes, you need to have clothes appropriate for every occasion. We need to get started right away. Personally, I hate working with seamstresses. They always want you to stand straighter, or for hours, or they stick you with pins. I'm very sorry I have to force you to endure it," she teased with a roll of her eyes.

Elizabeth couldn't help but chuckle. This woman wasn't like any noblewoman she had ever met. Already she was beginning to like her, but she was afraid to let down her guard. She followed Delia down the hall as the queen pointed out which room was which. Maybe Zevran would be able to get a map for her. It would be easier to learn the layout that way.

At the end of a long hallway there was a set of double doors. "Those doors lead to the Royal Suite. This door here," she walked to the last door on the left hand side of the hall, "leads to your quarters."

Delia opened the door and led Elizabeth inside. The elf's breath caught as she looked at the beautiful sitting room. The walls were the color of clean linen. Windows overlooked the garden and curtains of sky blue velvet were carefully hung at their sides. There were paintings of flowers; one painting in particular caught Elizabeth's eye.

Delia noticed her interest in the landscape. "I thought you might like that painting. I'm not sure why it was in the palace's collection, but when I noticed it was Antivan I set it aside to find the perfect place for it to hang."

Elizabeth smiled warmly at the queen. "Yes, thank you, Your… Delia. It is very thoughtful of you to have something to remind me of home."

"I'm glad you like it. Now, let me show you your bedroom." She led Elizabeth through another door to a comfortably appointed bedroom. The walls were painted green with Antivan brocade curtains. The furniture was distinctively Ferelden; functional and simple, yet it was accessorized with soft pillows and a pair of overstuffed chairs. Another door led to the bathroom. Delia showed Elizabeth how to use the dwarven rune stones that allowed for running water.

Elizabeth was overwhelmed. She had never had a room to herself, much less her own suite! "Delia, I… thank you. This is more than I expected."

Delia smiled warmly at her. "I'm so glad you like it. It may be one of the smaller suites, but I always felt it was the friendliest. The sun shines through the window most of the day. Don't hesitate to let me know if there is anything you would like to change. These are your quarters and I want you to be comfortable here."

Elizabeth looked around the rooms. "There is nothing I would change. This is so beautiful."

Delia opened the closet and took out a dress. "I found this dress in storage. Looking at it, I thought it might be a reasonably good fit for you. At least it's something to get you started until the seamstress can make some more for you. Try it on!"

Elizabeth took the dress from her. It was silk, in a beautiful sapphire blue. "Oh, my lady, this is too much." She tried to hand it back.

Delia pushed it back. "Elizabeth, you are my lady-in-waiting now. Believe me when I tell you that this is not the most extravagant dress you will have. Now, please try it on. Think of it this way, we can surprise everyone at dinner when you walk in with me looking like a princess in your own right."

Elizabeth nodded with a smile as she stepped behind the dressing screen. As she smoothed the dress over her skin she felt beautiful for the first time in her life. She stepped out into the room and Delia clapped her hands together in delight.

"You look fantastic, just as I expected. Look at yourself in the mirror." She walked Elizabeth across the room to the full length mirror. The elf's hair shone against the deep blue of the dress. Her green eyes were bright. Delia noticed the twine around her neck.

"What is that?" she asked.

Elizabeth quickly pulled it from around her neck. "Nothing, my lady. I… should have put it in my pack."

"Please, Elizabeth, it is obviously something important to you. May I see?" She held out her hand, and Elizabeth swallowed hard before she handed it over, afraid the queen would take it from her permanently. "This is beautiful," she said as she looked at the simple ring. "I assume it has special significance to you?"

Elizabeth nodded, never taking her eyes off her ring. Delia handed it back to her and wrapped the elf's fingers around it. "The twine will never do. Come with me."

She led Elizabeth into the Royal Suite. The elf was surprised at how cozy the rooms were, instead of the overdone opulence she had seen in other noble's homes. Delia led her to her own dressing table. She opened a small box and removed a simple gold chain.

"Elizabeth, use this for your ring. It will be safer, as well as far prettier."

Elizabeth couldn't believe the generosity of the queen. "Are you certain? You are already doing so much for me…"

"Please, take it. I know how important rings can be." Delia pulled a stone circle out from inside her own dress. "This is a dwarven wedding ring. Obviously, it is far too big for my finger, but Alistair and I were married in Orzammar. The dwarves, who were our hosts, included their tradition of creating two rings from one stone in our ceremony. It may not look like much, but I treasure it."

Elizabeth was stunned by the ring's beautiful simplicity. The stone was polished to a high luster and almost looked as though thousands of tiny pebbles had somehow fused together. "What a wonderful sentiment," she said to Delia. "It has always interested me, how different cultures present their sacraments. This ring is stunning."

Delia opened the chain while Elizabeth removed the twine from her ring. Once the chain was through the ring, Delia put the chain around Elizabeth's neck. As Elizabeth admired it in the mirror, Delia looked over her shoulder.

"Thank you, Delia. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Delia hugged her. "Someday, when you feel like it, perhaps you can tell me the story behind your ring. In the meantime, we need to get to dinner. I am famished!"

She led Elizabeth to the dining room. Most of their regular group was already sitting. As they approached the head table, Alistair rose to kiss his wife. He looked at the woman accompanying his wife and smiled.

"This can't be Elizabeth, can it? You look lovely, my dear." Looking back at his wife, his smile became lopsided, like a love sick teenager as he took her hand and kissed her palm gently.

Delia blushed as her husband helped her take a seat.

Zevran looked at his new protégé appreciatively. "Elizabeth, my dear, you are a natural for this type of work, just as I imagined. If there is anything that I can do to assist you in any way, all you need do is ask." He smiled luridly at Elizabeth. To everyone else's surprise, the young woman didn't even flinch.

"I am certain that I will be fine, Master Arainai. I promise you will be the first person I seek, should I ever find the need for your kind of… assistance." She kept her face calm and her eyes unwavering on Zevran.

"Ah ha! You see, we are already getting along famously. I must say, that it is most certainly a pleasure to gaze upon such an exquisite creature as you." Zevran licked his lips.

Breaking away from his conversation with Teagan; Alistair decided to intervene. "Elizabeth, we all know how much of a lewd-obnoxious-pain in the arse Zevran can be. It's taken a long time, but we've all realized he's really simply trying to get us all to blush and be as uncomfortable as possible. If you need help with him, we're all here for you."

Elizabeth smiled gently at the king. "Thank you, Your Majesty, but I'm certain I know exactly how to handle a man like Zevran. There is nothing he can do to shock me."

"Well, just know that we're here." Alistair went back to his conversation with Teagan.

Delia watched the unspoken conversation between Elizabeth and Zevran with interest. Both were being very guarded, but there was something under the surface. The two seemed to have a deep mutual respect, and yet their attitudes puzzled her. Once thing she knew, Elizabeth's presence would certainly help Delia from being bored!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Weisshaupt Visits

Elizabeth settled easily into her routine at the palace. Her day began at breakfast, where she would sit either at the table with the king and queen, or nearby. During the morning, the king would have meetings with his advisors. Most of the time, the queen wouldn't be included in those meetings because the king wanted her to rest. Delia hated to be treated like a porcelain doll and would vent her frustration with her new attendant. After lunch, the queen would join her husband for the afternoon petitions from the nobles and citizens. Depending on how many people showed; the king and queen would have some time to spend in private, allowing Elizabeth the luxury of doing whatever she pleased.

Dinner would normally be followed by time spent with the people Delia and Alistair considered to be their family. Elizabeth was intrigued by the rather unique collection of individuals the royals had collected over the course of their journeys. Zevran, of course, she already knew. He was rather infamous among his Crow peers because of his nonchalant attitude. Their master would often complain about Zevran's apparent disregard for rules, yet the Crow somehow managed to complete his contracts efficiently. It seemed as if the elf was charmed. The other members of their group were friendly. Elizabeth enjoyed hearing their tales of their adventures before the defeat of the archdemon. The elf seemed to blend right in to the party, and she had never felt more comfortable with her companions.

Once Elizabeth had been working for Delia for several weeks, she felt the time might be right to approach the queen about her concern for her friend, Sebastian. The man had been on Elizabeth's mind since she started attending to the queen. She worried about his safety, even though every message she sent to him he had replied to cheerfully.

It was a lovely summer morning. As was part of Delia's preferred routine, she and Elizabeth were in the garden while Delia worked on embroidering a blanket for her baby.

"Your Majesty, I have a question…" Elizabeth nervously played with her fingers as she looked at the ground.

Delia chuckled as she looked up at her young friend. "You must be very nervous if you are being so formal. You know you can ask me anything, Elizabeth. What is your question?"

"Well… Delia," she her name with hesitation, "There is a man who helped me a great deal when I… left Antiva. He works at a bar in a very seedy part of Denerim. I was wondering… do you think there would be a way to find him employment here in the palace? He isn't very skilled, I'm afraid, but he is a good, decent man. I would feel much better if he had a safer place to work."

Delia looked at the elf, contemplating her question. "What kind of a man is he? Where do you feel he would be useful?"

"He is almost like a father to me. His own family was killed by bandits, and he cared for me when…" Elizabeth's voice trailed off, afraid to divulge too much of her background.

Delia reached over and placed her hand gently on Elizabeth's. "When Zevran first approached me about hiring you, he told me something about you that I haven't mentioned. He said you were a slave, owned by his Crow Master, and that you escaped Antiva. This man you'd like to help; did he help you escape from Antiva?"

Elizabeth looked at Delia sadly as she nodded. "Sebastian found me when I was hiding on a ship. I didn't care where the ship was headed, as long as I was out of the country. Instead of turning me over to the captain, he paid my passage and took care of me. He has only been good to me; he's the only person who ever treated me well, before I met you."

Delia smiled warmly at Elizabeth. "Well then, we'll have to find a place for him here. What skills does he have?"

"He had a small farm, just on the outskirts of a small village. Sebastian told me how he loved his orchard most of all. His wife would cook pies and jams from the fruit. Do you have need of a gardener? I think he would like that." She looked hopefully at the queen, nervously awaiting her response.

"You know, we have a gardener," Delia watched the hope drain from the girl's eyes, "but he is getting on in years and I'm certain he would appreciate an extra pair of hands. Let me speak to him first, but I believe I can convince him."

Elizabeth's face lit up with the biggest smile Delia had seen. "Oh, thank you, Delia! You have no idea what this means to me."

"No, I do have an idea. Do you know why Alistair and I have chosen the name, Duncan, for our son?"

"No, I thought it might be a family name."

Delia's eyes reflected her inner sadness. "Duncan was the man who saved _my_ life; Alistair's too, in a way. He was the Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden."

Delia explained to Elizabeth her story of escape from Highever. Then she told her how Alistair was conscripted from the Chantry and how Duncan was killed at the Battle of Ostagar. When she finished her tales, Elizabeth looked at her sympathetically.

"Delia, whenever it seems I have learned who you are, there is something else I learn that surprises me. I never thought you would understand anything of my life, yet you have suffered greatly in your own way. The Maker smiled on me when Zevran led me to you."

Delia hugged the elf to her. "The Maker seems to have quite a plan for me. There is a reason why he has brought every person here into my life, and I will never take any of you for granted."

Elizabeth was moved. Delia was obviously being very sincere, and the elf felt undeserving of her appreciation.

"Delia… there is so much about me that you don't know. I'm not… the person you seem to think me to be." Elizabeth looked ashamed.

"Elizabeth, your past is gone. What I see of you here, in the present, shows me that you're a person of great integrity and compassion. You wish to help your friend. That shows me how you truly are inside. I know I can trust you, and I do. Someday, perhaps you'll feel comfortable enough to tell me about your past in Antiva. Until then, I don't need to know any more than I already do."

"But you have no reason to trust me. I have done nothing to deserve it."

With a grin, Delia chuckled softly. "You've also done nothing to lose it. I can _see_ in your heart that I can trust you. I hope that someday you can trust me as well."

Elizabeth tried to understand what she meant, but quickly put her thoughts aside. The doors to the garden had opened unexpectedly and a messenger approached. "Forgive me for disturbing you, Your Majesty, but the king asked me to locate you. He would like you to join him in the Great Hall."

Delia looked at the messenger apprehensively. "Did the king mention why?"

"We have unexpected visitors… from Weisshaupt." The man looked uneasy.

"Please inform the king that I will be there shortly."

The messenger thanked her and left the garden. Delia turned to Elizabeth, her concern clearly written on her face.

"This will be… interesting. Let's put the embroidery away and go to the hall. I will need you to stay close to me. You may need to be… more than my attendant today."

Elizabeth nodded her understanding and followed the queen back to her quarters. After the queen readied herself, the two walked down the corridors to the Great Hall. As soon as they entered the room Alistair hurried to his wife and hugged her.

"I'm guessing this is their response to our letter," he stated nervously. "I don't know whether to be worried or relieved."

"We'll find out once they have their say." Delia kissed his cheek, trying to calm him.

As they sat on their thrones, Elizabeth took a seat to Delia's right, slightly behind the queen. Zevran took a seat in a chair similarly placed to Alistair's left. Aeden, Teagan, Leliana and Wynne took their seats at the advisor's table. The herald announced the wardens as the doors to the Great Hall opened. Four people walked in, led by a tall man with long, blond hair tied at the back of his head with a leather cord. He wore Warden Commander Armor made of silverite. Behind the leader there was another stockier man, with dark brown hair cut in an almost tousled style, wearing leather armor. Interestingly, he carried a hatchet and a long dagger on his back. The third man was a dwarf who carried a two handed axe and wore armor similar to the Legion of the Dead. The fourth member of the party was an elven woman, a mage, wearing intricate Orlesian style robes and carrying a staff embedded with a large crystal on the top. Each of them wore dark grey tabards over their armor, decorated with griffons embroidered in silver.

When the four wardens reached the throne, they each bowed respectfully at the king and queen. "King Alistair, Queen Delia; if I may introduce myself? I am the Second Warden Commander of Weisshaupt, Egon. My companions are Scipio, Gorkov and Fiona. I apologize for our unexpected arrival; however, the First Warden insisted we were to report to you immediately upon our arrival."

Alistair nodded in understanding. "Welcome to Ferelden, wardens. You've obviously realized who my wife and I are. To your left of the queen is Lady Elizabeth, the queen's lady-in-waiting. To your right of my throne is Zevran Arainai, Head of Palace Security. At my advisors' table is Warden Aeden Cousland; my chancellor, Bann Teagan Guerrin; Leliana, a dear friend and former Initiate of the Chantry; and Wynne, Senior Enchanter of the Circle of Magi."

Wynne and Fiona, the warden's mage, nodded to each other with slight smiles of recognition. Delia noticed their reaction to each other and immediately reached out to the warden with her talent, only to be blocked by the woman's willpower. Although she was frustrated, Delia could feel that there was no malice in the mage's heart, and she was somewhat relieved.

Egon looked seriously at Alistair. "I understand that Gerod made you very… uncomfortable. We are here to convey Weisshaupt's most humble apologies. His actions were his own, and we in Weisshaupt were quite perturbed to learn of his behaviors. We hope it will not disrupt the budding relationship between Ferelden and the Grey Wardens."

"Ferelden wishes to have our relationship grow in a way that will be beneficial to both our country and the Grey Wardens." He looked at Aeden and Teagan, who both nodded at him. "Why don't we show you to your quarters? I'm certain that hot baths would be appreciated after your travels. After you have bathed, you will be shown to the dining room for lunch. Later, would you join us in the Royal Study? There are plenty of seats for all of us there. I believe we will be far more comfortable."

Egon smiled warmly. "That would be most appreciated, Your Majesty. I'm afraid my friends and I must smell like the fish our captain insisted on netting."

The herald called in Seamus, the head of staff, who graciously led the wardens to their guest quarters. As they exited the room, Alistair sighed deeply in relief.

"Well, that went rather well, didn't it?" he quipped.

Aeden stood and walked closer to the thrones. "Why don't we all relax until lunch? We should expect to be on our guard when we discuss things later."

"Agreed." Alistair stood and held his hand to his wife. "Let's go back to our room, my dear."

With a tired nod, Delia placed her hand in Alistair's and together they walked to their rooms. When they were finally alone, Alistair helped his wife to sit, pulling an ottoman to her chair for her feet. Once he was assured of her comfort, Alistair poured glasses of water for both of them. He then sat on the edge of the ottoman and took off her shoes. Gently, he rubbed her feet to help her relax.

"A copper for your thoughts," Alistair teased as he tickled her foot mischievously.

She pulled her foot from his hand and laughed. "If you're going to tickly me, I think I deserve a sovereign instead."

"All right then, a sovereign. But I get a kiss as well." He leaned forward and kissed her gently as he traced his hand down the side of her face.

Breaking the kiss, Delia looked deeply into his eyes. "You're worried, aren't you?"

"Does it show that much?" He moved to a chair and leaned back. "Were you able to 'see' anything?"

"Not very much. They are all guarded, as you would expect from people in their positions. I didn't feel any malice from any of them." Delia looked at Alistair with an expression of deep thought. "The mage, her name was Fiona, wasn't it?"

"Ye-es. Why?"

"Didn't Eamon tell us that your mother was a Grey Warden elven mage named Fiona? It can't be a coincidence, Alistair. I think she is… your mother!"

Alistair's face paled as he considered what his wife said. "I suppose there couldn't be many elven mages named Fiona in the Grey Wardens. Why would she come with them?"

Delia put her hand on top of his. "Perhaps she wants to get to know you. I had a conversation with Wynne about what happens to the babies born to mages. Fiona had the advantage of knowing where her child was placed, whereas most mage babies are simply taken away, never to be seen by their mothers' again."

Alistair sighed. "If she is my mother, I'm not certain how I should feel about her."

"Curious?" she questioned as she raised her eyebrow.

"May—be." He squeezed her hand gently. "I'm glad you're here with me to help me through this. To be honest, I don't know how to approach her about it."

"I would suggest you let her come to you. Remember, you aren't supposed to know anything about her. You should pretend that you still know nothing."

"Alright, so I play stupid. Right, I can handle that." Alistair grinned his lopsided way, causing his wife to chuckle.

Lunch was more comfortable than anyone expected. Egon sat at the table with Alistair, Delia, Teagan, and Aeden. Scipio and Gorkov sat with Oghren and Trent. Fiona sat with Wynne and Kinnon. Leliana, Zevran and Elizabeth sat at a table at the side of the dining room as they observed the various groupings. Each table seemed to have interesting conversations. It was a very different feeling from when Gerod and Elyon visited the palace. The Weisshaupt wardens reminded Aeden of the men who fought at Ostagar. They were very businesslike when the situation called for it, however they were able to relax and enjoy themselves when they had the opportunity.

When they finished eating, Alistair, Delia and Teagan excused themselves to attend to the afternoon's petitions. There were only a few petitioners, so they were finished earlier than usual. Before the three retired to Alistair's study, the king spoke to Dougal. He asked the servant to request the wardens to join them. On their way to the study, Alistair poked his head into the kitchen and teasingly begged the cook to put together a platter of cheese and bread. She shooed him away with a flick of her towel with a grin, immediately gathering the cheeses she knew were the king's favorites.

The wardens arrived at the study soon after the platter arrived, complete with several pitchers of ale. As they settled into their chairs, Griffon stood up from where the dog had been sleeping in a patch of sunlight. The hound sniffed the air before wandering over to Scipio's side. He sat down and nuzzled the man's hand, earning a surprised look from the warden.

"You look familiar, hound. Where do I know ye from?" Scipio reached down and scratched the hound behind his ears. Looking at the king he asked, "Do ye mind me askin' where you got this dog? He's not a Ferelden breed."

Delia decided to answer. "Griffon chose to travel with me after we met outside of Orzammar."

"Griffon?" he questioned, looking in the dog's eyes. "I knew a man that had a hound named Griffon."

Delia looked questioningly at the warden. "Was his name Konrad?"

"Aye, it was." His eyes met hers with sadness. "He was a good friend o' mine. Konrad was my mentor when I first joined the Wardens. Do 'ye know what happened to him?"

"From what I was told, he left Griffon at the Warden House at Orzammar before he went to his… calling. I'm so sorry… perhaps at some time during your visit you would be kind enough to tell me about him. I would love to know more about him."

The warden looked back at Griffon as he grunted. "I will do that, Your Majesty. Konrad was a good man. You're a lucky woman to have Griff 'ere choose you. Deer hounds are treasured where I come from."

"Are you originally from the Frostback Mountains?"

"Aye, but from a village closer to Orlais than Ferelden. Haven't been there in years, but can't say as I miss it much." He cupped the dog's chin with his hand and looked into his eyes. "I'm glad to see you survive, pup. You were always Konrad's favorite. Yer littermates are still well and are cared for by the Wardens. Be happy here, pup, and serve your lady well."

Griffon softly woofed and licked the man's hand. Then the dog stood and walked back to Delia's side where he lay down and placed his head on his paws. A tear seemed to form in the dog's eye. Somehow Delia felt Griffon's sadness, and she reached down to pet him. He looked up at her gratefully before settling down for a nap.

Aeden decided to take the lead for the meeting. He cleared his throat and looked at Alistair, who nodded nearly imperceptibly. "Egon, I assume you were informed of the contents of our letter to the First Warden?"

"Yes, Aeden. As I said earlier, we at Weisshaupt were quite disturbed to learn of Gerod's behavior. He and his second have been recalled to Weisshaupt to answer to your charges. Unfortunately, this is not the first time he has disobeyed orders. He will be dealt with appropriately, you have my promise." He shifted his gaze to Alistair. "The First Warden was most intrigued by your desire to appoint Warden Aeden as the Warden Commander of Ferelden." Egon removed a scroll from his pocket. "This is an official document appointing Warden Aeden as the Warden Commander. The First Warden will send a regiment of wardens directly to Vigil's Keep to assist you in your endeavors, Warden Commander Aeden. They should be arriving in approximately three weeks' time."

Alistair smiled broadly. "Thank you, Egon. I will write a letter of thanks to the First Warden as well." He looked at Aeden happily. "Congratulations, Warden Commander! I believe we should have a celebration to honor your new appointment. We'll work out the details later."

"Thank you, King Alistair. And thank you as well, Egon. I believe this will be a new beginning for the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden." Aeden's smile was nearly as broad as his king's.

Egon nodded. "If it were not for the bravery and quick thinking of both you and the king, our entire world would still be in danger from the archdemon." His brow furrowed and he rubbed his forehead. "That brings up a difficult topic. There has never been a time where the man who dealt the killing blow to the archdemon has survived before now. I have been asked to discover how you managed to perform what seemed to be the impossible. To be honest, I have been quite surprised to discover that you, King Alistair, carry no taint in your blood. How can that be?"

"It is the result of a… ritual of sorts, performed by my wife after my death." Alistair continued on, explaining Delia's dream and how she performed the ritual to cleanse Ferelden and save his soul. When he finished explaining how he was brought back to life and discovered he no longer carried the taint, the Second Warden didn't seem to be very surprised.

"That is… most interesting, most interesting indeed." Egon scratched his chin. "In the history of the Grey Wardens, there was one other person that we know of who was… cleansed of the taint."

Aeden nodded as he glanced at Fiona. "I noticed that one of your group carries no taint. I found it to be… curious."

Alistair looked at his friend, Egon, and then Fiona. "Fiona has no taint? But how?"

The mage sighed. "It is a long story. Perhaps we can discuss this further this evening. For now, why don't you concentrate on the details of the deployment to Vigil's Keep? My story can wait."

Delia felt a wave of sadness as it moved from Fiona through the room. Her talent reached out and caught one image from the mage's thoughts. _"It is a man – Maker, he looks like Alistair! Could it be Maric?" _Delia knew there were many secrets hidden away in the woman, but could feel that Fiona would tell them as best she could. The mage needed time before she could open her old wounds.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Thank you Liso66! If it weren't for you, my loremaster, this chapter wouldn't make the cut!_**

Chapter 7: A Mother's Love

Alistair and Delia lay in their bed, holding each other as Alistair lazily ran his fingers through his wife's hair. Just being together like this was one of Alistair's favorite things to do. He could pretend that they were the only two people in the world, at least for a few minutes. Unfortunately, every morning the moment would be spoiled by a knock on the door signaling the time to start the day's business.

With the gentle feel of Alistair's hands stroking her hair, Delia snuggled closer to his chest. She never had enough time with her husband. Every moment together she treasured, knowing they would have none had it not been for the Maker's blessing. Delia would never take her husband's presence for granted.

Both husband and wife wanted the same thing this morning: time. They needed time to decide how to proceed with their warden guests, Fiona in particular. Alistair was relieved that the wardens from Weisshaupt were as friendly as the wardens he had traveled with, before losing them all at Ostagar. He felt comfortable with the wardens, and Delia seemed to "see" no troubles with any of them. Fiona's presence troubled Alistair; he didn't know quite what to make of her. He knew she was his mother, yet she didn't present herself as such. Alistair couldn't help but wonder why she kept quiet. Was it because both were Grey Wardens who had lost their taint? Or was it because she didn't want to acknowledge her son? He hoped she wasn't embarrassed by him.

His old feelings of inadequacy churned to the surface; only one thing keeping them in check - feeling his beautiful wife in his arms. Delia was the one person who believed in him without fail. Alistair drew strength from her and tried to remind himself that he not only was king because of an accident of birth; he had earned the position through the trust of his people.

The inevitable knock on the door sounded. Alistair begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed; both the king and queen readied themselves for breakfast. As they dressed, Alistair looked curiously at his wife.

"So, any thoughts as to dealing with Fiona?" he asked as he pulled a fresh tunic over his head.

Delia raised an eyebrow. "Dealing with her in what way? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Oh, you know, asking if she is my mother; perhaps asking why she abandoned me; does she hate me; did I disappoint her in some way? I mean, why hasn't she said anything to me?"

His face looked so lost and sad; Delia quickly walked over and embraced him. "She hasn't had a chance, Alistair. The other wardens have been with her every time we've spoken. I doubt she wants them to know about your relationship. Fiona would realize what would happen if anyone discovered that your mother was an elven mage. She would want to protect you, which is exactly why she gave you up as a baby. Have faith, my love."

Alistair's face couldn't hide his emotions. Delia could see that he felt rejected again by another parental figure. She reached her hand to his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes. "Give her some more time. I'm convinced she will talk to you when she can."

He nodded and kissed her. "I'll try to be patient. It's just… difficult."

They finished dressing and made their way to breakfast. Once they were seated, they were joined by Aeden, Teagan, Egon and Fiona. The meal was one of Alistair's personal favorites – cheese omelets, served with fresh fruit on the side. The morning cook, a man named Roderick, reveled in pleasing the king's palette. He personally served the king, enjoying the broad smile received in reward.

"Roderick, you are spoiling him! He's going to start having a belly like my own if he isn't careful," Delia teased. Alistair stuck his tongue out at her in reply.

"You're just jealous that he likes me more than you," he laughed. "Besides, I rather like your belly," he added as he placed his hand on her abdomen.

Fiona and Egon looked at each other in bemusement. Aeden laughed and tried to explain. "Sometimes our king likes to behave like a silly oaf. Don't worry; inside he is actually quite intelligent, even if he doesn't show it. We've all become so used to his idiot side that we simply ignore him."

Fiona looked down at the floor, a slight grin gracing her face. Her expression took on a far-away look, as if she were remembering a long forgotten memory. Delia's attention to the mage was shattered when her unborn son kicked his father's hand sharply.

Alistair's face simply lit up with excitement. "Oh, now that was quite a kick! I think our Duncan likes the cheese omelets just like his dad!"

Fiona looked at Delia warmly. "You are naming your son Duncan?"

"Yes, Duncan was very important to both me and Alistair." Delia watched as the mage's face grew sad. "Did you know him, Fiona?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, we had many adventures together. He helped me when no one else could. He was… a true friend."

Alistair looked at her with concern. "You knew Duncan? Perhaps, if you have time, you would talk with me about him? Delia, Aeden and I wanted to create a memorial in his honor. If we could learn more about his past, it would help us decide what would be most appropriate."

Fiona smiled sadly. "I would be honored to assist in any way that I can, Your Majesty."

After breakfast, Alistair followed Teagan to the Royal Study to attend to business matters. Delia and Elizabeth brought their embroidery to the garden. They sat, chatting amiably, until they heard the door open. Both looked up to see a guard walking toward them.

"Your Majesty, Warden Fiona has asked for permission to speak to you." The guard stood nervously as he waited for the queen to answer.

Delia nodded at the guard. "That would be fine. Please show her into the garden."

He bowed respectfully. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

The guard returned to the door. He slowly opened it and motioned for the warden to follow him.

"Fiona, it is nice of you to join us this morning. Please take a seat." Delia motioned to an empty bench beside her as she smiled warmly at the mage. "Elizabeth and I certainly enjoy spending time here in the garden."

"It is amazing it survived the Blight. I would have expected it to have been destroyed by the taint." Fiona looked around at the flourishing plants and trees.

"Yes, I believe it was ruined; however, it was restored after I performed the ritual after the archdemon's death." Delia reached over to a daisy and plucked it. "The Maker truly blessed us; his beauty is everywhere. I believe he wanted us to appreciate everything he gives us, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant."

With a quiet gasp, Delia's hand moved quickly to her abdomen. "Duncan is quite active this morning. Sometimes I think he resents being kept inside."

Fiona raised an eyebrow while she smiled softly. "May I?" she said, looking at Delia's hand.

"Certainly! I am never opposed to having a mage of your stature checking on his progress." Delia moved her hand to the arm of the bench.

Fiona kneeled in front of Delia and placed her hands on her growing belly. The mage's face seemed to light up in delight. "He is very strong. It is very interesting, the feelings I gather from him."

"How so?" Delia looked at the mage curiously.

"The Theirin blood seems to dominate him, just like in his father." Fiona's eyes never left Delia's belly, and yet she seemed to be looking somewhere far away.

Delia decided to speak plainly to Fiona about Alistair's birth, but wanted privacy. "Elizabeth, would you mind bringing something for us to drink? I suddenly find myself parched."

"Certainly, Your Majesty. Is there anything in particular you would like?" The elf looked at Delia's face with a raised eyebrow, worried about leaving her alone with the warden.

"Would you please bring water that has been freshened with some lemon juice?" Noticing her friend's look of concern, Delia smiled and nodded gently to reassure her that she would be fine.

"I will return in a few minutes then." With a quick bow, Elizabeth hurried to the kitchen. She didn't want to leave Delia alone for long.

Once the door closed behind Elizabeth, Delia cleared her throat nervously. "Fiona, may I ask you something… personal in nature?"

Fiona looked up to her face sadly. "You… know, don't you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Delia answered, feigning ignorance.

"Please, Delia, let us both stop pretending. I noticed the way you looked at me when we first arrived, and I felt you reach out with your talent. It is most interesting that you are a seer without being a mage. You are a most… unusual person." Noticing Delia's discomfort, the mage sat back on the bench and placed her hand on the queen's. "Please, do not worry. I know that having your talent without magic makes you very vulnerable, and I will never say anything to anyone about it. You have my word as a Grey Warden."

"But how can you feel it? I thought it wasn't noticeable to anyone." Genuine fear clouded her eyes, causing Fiona to gently pat her hand reassuringly.

"Very few mages have that ability. I have only met one other mage that might; it is only something that can be learned at the highest level of study in the Creation School of magic. Most mages cannot reach the level required as they are hindered by the restrictions of the Chantry. It is even difficult to find my level of Creation skill in Tevinter, as most of their healers would have branched out to other schools of study without reaching my level of ability." Fiona smiled warmly, as if she held true feelings for the queen. "We both have our secrets. It is in the best interest of us both to keep them guarded."

Nodding in agreement, Delia looked at Fiona with concern in her eyes. "Fiona, would you please tell me the truth about… Alistair?"

"How did you find out? I need to know…" she replied as she sat back on the bench, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

"Eamon told us when we asked him why he disliked the Grey Wardens. He blamed the wardens for whatever problems his sister, Rowan, had with Maric."

Fiona sighed as she nodded sadly. "No, he blamed the problems Rowan had with Maric on an elf. Before Maric and Rowan were married, Maric was in love with an elven woman who turned out to be an Orlesian bard. Her intention was to betray their party, and, when Maric discovered her duplicity, he killed her. Rowan never forgave him for his… indiscretion, not that Rowan and Loghain were without their own guilt. When Rowan died, Maric was never the same. His remorse caused him to wish to die, which is the very reason why he joined our party of Grey Wardens as we planned our descent into the Deep Roads." Fiona's smile broadened as the memories flooded to her. "Maric and I didn't get along well at first, but there was… something about him. He was unrelenting, and after some time, I found I could not resist his charms."

Delia laughed. "It sounds as though Alistair inherited his father's charm then."

Fiona chuckled. "Yes, I saw that immediately when we walked into the Great Room. My breath caught in my throat, until I realized that Alistair could not be Maric."

"Did you… love Maric?" Delia almost wished she could retrieve the words as soon as she spoke them, because Fiona's eyes began to tear.

"Yes, we loved each other. Our relationship was… impossible. He was the king, and I was not only an elf, which in of itself would be unacceptable, but I was also a mage. The Chantry would have strictly forbidden us from being together. It was for the best for me to return to Weisshaupt."

"But what about Alistair? Why was he abandoned?"

Fiona looked at her in grief. "You cannot think I wanted to leave my only child. As a warden, I could not raise him. My duties would keep me away from him. If I left the wardens, either I would have to be the king's mistress and my son would be seen as a threat to Cailan's position as heir. If I decided to go somewhere on my own, I would be branded an apostate and hunted by the Templars. If I returned to the Circle of Magi, they would have insisted he go to the Chantry, and I would not know whatever became of him. Instead, I gave my son to Maric, to find a proper home for him where he could have a good life, away from court."

Fiona turned away from Delia, the sorrow clearly visible on her face. "Maric gave Alistair to Eamon, who promised to raise him as his ward and allow him to find his own path in life. Eamon was supposed to tell Alistair that his mother was a human servant who died during childbirth. Unfortunately, Eamon resented Maric for his sister's sadness and eventual death. When Eamon learned that Alistair's mother was an elven Grey Warden and a mage on top of that, he despised my child. His precious nephew had been betrayed, in his mind, by my relationship with Maric." She turned back to Delia, her eyes flashing in anger. "He raised Alistair in the stable, where he wasn't only away from court; he was treated nearly as badly as the lowest servants. When I learned of Alistair's living conditions, I wrote to Maric, but his hands were tied. If he had tried to intervene, Alistair could have been discovered. Later, Eamon did the only thing that could have been worse; he sent him to be a Templar. A Templar!"

Delia was intrigued. "How did you know? Did you check on Alistair somehow?"

"Yes," she stated softly. "Duncan would… check up on him whenever he passed through Redcliffe. It wasn't often, but it was better than nothing. Alistair would have been so young back then; I don't think he could remember ever meeting him." She looked at the ground. "If there were something I could have done, I would have. Duncan recruited him to the Grey Wardens on my request. At least my son was freed from the Templars, even if it meant he had to live within the confines of the wardens."

Delia picked up Fiona's hand. As the mage looked up at her, Delia smiled warmly. "Alistair needs to know what happened and how you feel about him."

"It will only… hurt him, to know me… to think of me as his mother." A tear fell from Fiona's eye as a soft sob escaped her lips.

"He knows he would need to keep your identity a secret, but he needs to know how much you love him."

"How could he ever forgive me? He has suffered so much for my… our… indiscretion."

Delia smiled again and squeezed her hand gently. "One of Alistair's greatest qualities is his capacity for love and understanding. It would be a great gift for him to know how much you wanted him, despite circumstances forcing you to give him away. Please, come to the Royal Quarters this evening. We can spend time together, and you can explain everything to Alistair."

"How would we explain my visit to the others, should they discover it?"

"That's simple: you are coming to my quarters to examine the baby and me out of concern for his father having been tainted when I became pregnant. I understand that pregnancies are somewhat rare within the Grey Wardens, and I will have asked for your expertise on the matter."

Fiona smiled in relief. "Yes, that is a completely understandable reason. No one would suspect anything different."

"Then it's settled. Come to our quarters after dinner." As Fiona nodded in agreement, the door to the garden opened and Elizabeth returned bringing water. The three women sat comfortably, drinking the water, and enjoying the beauty surrounding them.

Alistair was pacing in front of the fireplace. Delia watched him and laughed. "Will you relax? You are reminding me of when we went to meet Goldanna!"

He stopped and looked at her, his face showing both amusement and disgust. "I suppose the one good thing is that now we know for certain; I am _not_ related to that shrew!"

Delia walked over to him and placed her hand on his arm. "Yes, definitely a good thing. Now, my love, you must sit and relax. Everything will be fine, I promise."

Alistair looked at her, eyes wide with both hope and anxiety. "Do you really think it will be? Fine, I mean? I'm going to look like a fool. Why do I even get my hopes up? I'm nothing to her…"

Delia pushed her husband into a chair and sat on his lap to stop him from moving. Grasping his face between her hands, she forced him to look into her eyes. "Alistair, for Andraste's sake, relax. I know for a fact that Fiona cares a great deal about you. You always have been the most important person in the world to her. Let her tell you what happened. Everything is going to be fine."

A soft knock on the door caused Delia to walk across the room. She opened the door to find Fiona standing there with a guard. After assuring the guard that Fiona was expected, Delia asked her to enter the room and shut the door behind her.

Alistair stood and smoothed his doublet as Fiona approached. "Fiona, I am very… glad that you are joining us tonight. Please, sit here."

As Fiona and Delia sat, Alistair poured three cups of tea. After handing cups to Fiona and Delia, he took one for himself and sat across from the two women.

"I must admit, I'm not sure how to start this conversation." Nervously, Alistair ran his fingers through his hair. Fiona started to giggle when she saw his nervous gesture, causing Alistair to look to his wife in worry. "See! I'm already making a fool of myself."

Fiona put her hand out as the other hand went over her mouth to stifle her laughter. "No, no, it's just that your father would do the exact same thing whenever he was nervous around people. When I'm nervous, I can't help but giggle." er h Her expression warmed as she looked carefully at his face. "It is amazing how much you look like Maric. You have his smile… his smile always extended to his eyes, just like you do. Your voice is similar too. I never thought…"

"Thought what? That you'd have to see me again?" he snapped, immediately regretting his words.

Delia was about to speak, but was stopped by Fiona's gentle hand on top of hers. "I never wanted to give you up, Alistair. It was the most difficult thing I ever had to do; it was even worse than anything I ever faced in the Deep Roads. It was supposed to be the best thing for you, but Eamon betrayed us all."

Fiona spent the next hour explaining everything she could think of. She told him of her love for Maric, how difficult it was being pregnant and not being able to be with the man she loved, and seeing her son's face for the first time. Where her words couldn't capture her feelings, Alistair could see it written on her face. One thing that took him by surprise was how Fiona kept track of him over the years.

"You mean… Duncan watched over me? Checked on my progress and informed you?" he uttered in astonishment. "I had no idea that I had ever seen him before the tournament."

Fiona smiled. "He went to that tournament for one reason – to recruit you and save you from the Templars."

Alistair beamed. "Really? Wow… no wonder why he wouldn't give up. When the Grand Cleric refused his request and he conscripted me, I thought she would have a heart attack on the spot!" His expression changed, betraying his questions. "So, you really watched out for me, even from all the way in Weisshaupt? Wow…"

Fiona knelt in front of him. "Alistair, I wish I could have kept you with me. There has never been a day that has gone by, where I didn't wonder and worry about what you were doing."

Alistair stood and helped Fiona stand as well. He looked at her with an expression of understanding. "Fiona, may I ask a… favor?"

"Certainly; what is it that I can do for you?"

"May I… hug my mother?" He flashed a lopsided smile to her, earning a broad smile from her.

"How can I refuse my son a hug?" Fiona reached up as his arms encircled her waist. As they stood holding each other, Fiona sighed. "You have no idea how long I have wanted to be able to do this."

Delia sat in her chair, smiling broadly. She knew how much her husband wanted a real family. Now, he not only had family through his marriage and the friends they had adopted into their midst, he had a blood relative of his own. Alistair looked visibly different. It seemed that a weight had been removed from his shoulders, now that he knew he had always been loved and watched over. Delia couldn't have been happier for her husband. It truly seemed that the Maker was giving them everything they could possibly want, and she couldn't have been more grateful.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Queen's Duties

"Ugh. Leliana, there just isn't a dress in all of Ferelden that will ever flatter me. It simply isn't possible to look pretty when you are as pregnant as I am." Delia held up the tenth dress sample with a frown on her face. "The red one makes me look like an apple, the green one like a melon, and the peach one like an apricot!"

The bard laughed. "At least when the men of Ferelden are all enraptured by your beauty, they will be able to say that you look good enough to eat and mean it!"

Delia handed the dress she was holding back to the seamstress and sat down with a grunt. "It's the first formal affair we've held since the coronation. You know as well as I, that I have to look… presentable."

"And you will, Delia. You are being much too hard on yourself. There were several dresses that would look stunning on you. I suggest the one made with the teal silk. The color is rich, yet the style draws the attention to your face and not your baby." Leliana retrieved the dress from the seamstress' clothing rack and held it out to Delia. "Try it on. Simply holding it up does not do the dress justice."

Delia pushed against the arms of the chair to stand up. Each day it was harder and harder to move, and she found she couldn't wait for Duncan to be born. The novelty of her pregnancy had disappeared months earlier. All that remained was discomfort and weariness. Leliana helped her change into the teal dress. As they examined the dress in the mirror, they heard a soft cough behind them.

The two women turned around to see Alistair leaning against the door jamb. His face had a dreamy look as he smiled at his wife. "To think that the Maker blessed me with such a beautiful creature as my wife…" he said quietly. "I'll have to fight for your honor all evening."

"Flatterer." Delia walked up to him and kissed him gently. "Do you really like this dress?"

His eyes roamed appreciatively across her body. "Oh, most definitely. You, my love, are simply gorgeous." He pulled her into a close hug. As he released her, he looked deeply into her eyes. "I know you aren't looking forward to this afternoon, but I checked with the cook and everything will be ready for your tea."

Delia sighed and walked back to the chair. "You _know_ how much I want to see these women. The few I've met over the years have been such spoiled lapdogs. Their conversation is limited to shopping, the weather, or whatever nasty gossip they've heard from someone else. I wish there would be at least one woman among them who was capable of intelligent conversation!"

Leliana understood exactly what Delia feared. "At least you'll have us there. We can help deflect the worst of it from you."

Alistair's eyes showed a mischievous glint. "I suggest you keep Griffon with you. If all else fails, you can sic him on someone and enjoy watching, as the ladies run in fear from the ghost hound."

"Is that what they call him - the ghost hound?" Leliana asked.

Delia sighed. "It started with one of the guardsmen. Griffon was walking in a shadow, and the man barely saw him because Griff's color blended into the stone. Suddenly, it seems that the entire city has been talking about the mysterious ghost hound that roams the palace. Really, Leliana, you should hear the stories! There are people out there who have created an entire myth about this hound. They've even gone as far as to make their children afraid that if they don't behave they'll be taken away by the beast!"

"All the more reason to sic him on the ladies, in my opinion." Alistair chuckled. "Can you imagine the ladies as they run for their lives from the beastly beast? Oh… the humanity!" He burst out laughing at the thought

"Yes, well perhaps I'll keep Griffon with me. The so-called legend might protect me from their overzealous attempts at being my close friend. At the very least, he will give me something to talk about." She looked at her husband with a frown. "You know, I'm only subjecting myself to this nightmare for you, my _king_," she teased, earning an apologetic grin from her husband.

"I know: it's tough to be the queen. I have every faith that you will survive, my dear. The ladies of the nobility will appreciate your efforts."

"As far as I'm concerned, you _owe_ me, and I intend to collect what is due by making you my personal slave for the evening." She gave him a smoldering look, making Alistair blush from ear to ear. "You can start out with a foot massage. Mind you, I'll be very picky about how you do it."

"I expect nothing less. I promise to be your willing servant." He smiled as he took her hand and kissed it gently. "Unfortunately, I must take my leave. While you meet with the ladies, I have to deal with all _my_ gossip and politics."

As soon as he left the room, Delia asked the seamstress to alter the teal dress for her. She stood for what felt like hours as the woman marked the necessary alterations. When she finally finished, Delia carefully removed the dress and put back on the blue linen dress she wore for the day. The seamstress had plenty of work to do before the celebration of Aeden's promotion to Warden Commander of Ferelden. Not only did she have Delia's alterations, she was also commissioned to create new dresses for Leliana and Elizabeth. The woman was very talented with a needle and thread, and Delia found that she easily relied on her expertise whenever she needed a new dress. Once the seamstress was dismissed, Delia started to ready herself for the afternoon's event.

Delia realized that she was very nervous about having the ladies for tea. She knew that it was the queen's responsibility to entertain the women, while the members of the Landsmeet discussed their politics. There were several ladies whose personalities worried her. Habren, in particular, would be a problem. Although the girl was quite a bit younger than Delia, she had always been spoiled past the point of over indulgence.

Delia met Habren one summer when her mother was trying to arrange a marriage between Dairren and a bann's daughter, just north of South Reach. The bann had invited Arl Bryland and his daughter, as a courtesy, to be a part of the visit. While the men went hunting, Delia and her mother were left behind with the Bann's wife and daughter, as well as the incorrigible Habren. The girl refused to behave properly. By the time her father returned from hunting, the damage she caused was great. Arl Bryland reimbursed his host for destroyed clothing, furniture and dishes; all of which had fallen victim to his daughter's tantrums. As far as the grown Habren was concerned, Delia had heard stories of the way she behaved in the market district. The young woman apparently treated her servants cruelly. Rumor had it; Habren had a habit of constantly buying puppies that would disappear. Delia shivered involuntarily, as she thought of what she'd have to cope with for the afternoon.

Leliana helped Delia with her hair, making certain it was styled fashionably without being overly formal. Although the ladies' tea was supposed to be somewhat informal, the queen still needed to maintain a certain level of sophistication. When Leliana finished with her hair, they had a few minutes of quiet conversation before there was a knock on the door. Elizabeth entered the room along with one of the palace's many pages.

"The women are gathered in the sitting room, Delia. Are you ready to make your appearance?" Elizabeth knew how much her queen dreaded the afternoon, and she hated to be the one to retrieve her.

Delia looked at her newest friend and sighed. "If I must. Alistair convinced me to bring Griffon with us."

"Griffon? Whatever for? You don't think he'd wreak havoc?" Elizabeth looked worried.

"Griffon will do whatever I ask, as you well know. Having him at my side might make me feel better. I feel like I'm going into a pit of vipers as it is." Delia grimaced as she stood up. "I suppose we'd best get this over with."

Leliana laughed. "Oh, Delia, I'm sure it won't be as horrible as you are expecting. The ladies will all be on their best behavior, if for no other reason than wanting to make a good impression on the queen."

Elizabeth patted Delia's arm. "Don't forget that we'll be there with you. Wynne and Fiona will be joining us as well, so between the four of us, we'll simply surround you if need be."

The corners of Delia's mouth turned up slightly. "You may need to do that, especially if I take my husband's advice. It could be very amusing to make the ladies run away from my ghost hound."

The three walked out to the hallway and joined their escorts. Trent had arranged for his most trusted men to escort the women, as well as stand guard during the tea. It was almost suffocating to have the eight men surrounding them, as they moved toward the sitting room. Once they were at the doors, Seamus nodded at the queen and opened the door as he announced her entrance.

The ladies formed a receiving line as Delia walked into the room. She noticed that Seamus had outdone himself, decorating the room with fresh floral bouquets. The room had never looked quite so welcoming. Delia was careful to follow every piece of protocol and etiquette she was taught as she moved from one woman to another, greeting each person warmly. As she looked around, she couldn't help but notice a group of three young women who had not joined the receiving line. It was such an egregious breach of etiquette toward the queen; Delia knew she needed to address it. Of course, as she looked at their faces, she realized that one of the girls was Habren. This obviously was her doing, as the other two looked at the floor almost shamefully, while Habren looked at the queen, gloatingly.

Delia straightened her dress and angrily looked at the girls. "I see that there are parts of Ferelden that have yet to learn proper manners. How sad!" Delia turned away from the girls and focused on her other guests. Habren was visibly angered at the queen. She was acting like an animal, goading the leader of the pack into a fight. Habren led her two friends to one of the tables where an elaborate teapot sat, surrounded by matching cups. The porcelain was delicate, made in Orlais before Ferelden was freed. As she looked straight at the queen, Habren swung her arm around, catching most of the cups and sending them to the floor in a loud crash. The girl's eyes flashed in triumph as the ladies turned their attention to her.

"Oh, did I do that?" she asked in feigned innocence. "That was a horrid set anyway; not that anyone could expect you to have any proper sense of style."

One of the noble ladies moved closer to Habren. She spoke harshly to the young woman. "How dare you, Habren? Not even your father can replace that set. It was spoils of war from King Maric's time."

"What do I care? It's not like _Delia_ can do anything about it." As the ladies looked at her in astonishment, Habren continued to speak. "I will not stand by and pretend that someone as lowly as Delia Loren could possibly be the queen of our country. You all knew her father. Don't pretend that she is worthy of any respect. Can't you see she is a pretender? Ferelden should have someone of true noble blood on the throne, not this phony."

Another woman huffed. "Whatever you believe, Habren, it's irrelevant. Queen Delia sits on the throne, along with King Alistair, at the will of the members of the Landsmeet. I suggest you behave young lady, or your father will…"

"My father will, what? You can't threaten me. My father is an arl, and has more power in his little finger than five of your bann husbands put together."

Delia looked at the two girls who had followed Habren's lead. They were cowering behind the arl's daughter, unsure of what they should do. The queen felt a bit of sympathy for them, knowing how important it was to teenagers to have friends. She remembered her school days, and the girls who would follow the one, obnoxious leader, just so they would fit somewhere.

"You two; what are your names?" Delia stood straight, trying to look as regal as she could.

The shorter of the two girls spoke first. "My name is Ophelia, Queen Delia. I am the daughter of Bann Garman of Elmsford. This is my sister, Imogen."

"Well, Ladies Ophelia and Imogen, I have some important advice for both of you. You need to decide for yourselves what type of people you wish to be, instead of following someone who, quite obviously, needs a remedial course in etiquette." Delia walked over to the young women. She tried to emulate her mentor, Josephine, when she needed to discipline a student who was clearly out of line. Delia's friends at school called Josephine's look, "the evil eye". It seemed to work, as both girls flinched. "I will give you two ladies a choice: you may either stay here, or you may leave now. Should you decide to stay and enjoy the tea, you will be expected to act properly. If you do not use proper decorum, you will be escorted from the palace and back to your father's house. So… what do you wish to do?"

A look of fear flashed between the sisters. Imogen cleared her throat and stuttered an answer. "Your Majesty, we would be… most honored… if you would allow us to stay."

"Then you shall stay, unless you are unable to handle the responsibilities of a Fereldan noblewoman." She turned her gaze to Habren. "And as for you, Lady Habren; it is my belief that you cannot behave yourself in a manner appropriate to attending this event." She motioned to the guards. "Ser Egeus, would you and your men please escort Lady Habren to her father's estate? Ask Seamus to write a note explaining the damage she has caused; her father will be very displeased at her behavior."

Ser Egeus walked over to Habren and placed his hand on her arm to lead her away. Habren shook her arm from the guard's grasp and looked at the queen furiously. "Don't you know who I am? I am the daughter of _Arl_ Leonas Bryland. I will not be treated in this manner, especially by the daughter of someone as despicable as _Bann_ Loren."

Delia walked closer to the girl with Griffon bristling at her side. "I know precisely who you are, Lady Habren. I also know that, although your father is a wonderful man who is a well-respected member of the Landsmeet, you must learn your place. I will not permit this blatant disrespect; neither for your queen nor for objects of historical value. Be gone from my presence." She turned her back on the girl. Delia spoke to Dougal about brewing more tea before walking back to her other guests. As Delia graciously showed the ladies to the refreshment tables, the guards attempted to lead a protesting Habren from the room.

"You will not get away with treating me like this, Delia Loren! Everyone here knows that you are just as worthless as that scoundrel of a father of yours." Habren struggled with the guard, trying to break free of his grip. Another guard joined him on the other side of the girl. The two lifted her by her arms and carried her out of the room, trying to avoid her flying legs as she resisted.

Once the commotion had finally died down, one of the ladies approached the queen. "Your Majesty, I am Helewis, wife of Bann Markett of Chesselton. It is a very small bann, located southeast of Lothering." The middle aged woman smiled, with a glint of mischief in her eye. "I must compliment you on your handling of young Lady Habren. I have often wanted to have her escorted from the premises in a similar fashion, although I would wish to have her end up thrown in a pigsty!" she added conspiratorially.

Delia laughed. "I see you are… familiar with Lady Habren."

Helewis nodded. "Yes, unfortunately. Her father is so desperate to marry her off and be rid of her, that he approached us to try to arrange a marriage with our son. Of course, politically it would be wonderful if Hugo were to marry the daughter of an Arl. Once he met her, he begged us – said he would rather be sent to the Chantry than marry that shrew!"

"He sounds like a very intelligent young man," Delia answered. "Why don't we have some tea so we can sit and properly enjoy ourselves."

Helewis happily agreed. "Whatever would please you, your Majesty. I remember all too well the final months of my pregnancies. You should rest whenever you can." She followed the queen to the refreshment table.

Delia took one look at the foods provided and rolled her eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that her husband had created the menu for the afternoon. Instead of the usual finger sandwiches served at most ladies' events, Alistair had cheese… lots and lots of cheese. As she looked, she noticed that each variety was labeled with its name and which region of Ferelden was famous for producing it. She expected the women to react poorly to the food; instead she was happily surprised that the women were enjoying sampling the cheeses of Ferelden. Each lady seemed to take pride that her home was represented. The discussions that ensued comparing the tastes and textures were actually interesting. The time flew past, and before she knew it, the tea time was over and Delia was saying goodbye to her guests.

As the ladies filed out, each stopped in front of the queen to thank her before they left. It seemed that the cheeses were extremely popular, and Delia was congratulated for the brilliant way she had built bridges throughout the Bannorn with the simple foods. Once they were finally gone, Delia sat heavily. She hadn't realized how tired she had become, and she started to look forward to having an evening alone with Alistair. A smile crept onto her lips as she realized that he was the reason why the afternoon had been so successful. Who would have thought that his obsession with cheese would put his wife at the top of Fereldan society so quickly?

Wynne sat next to Delia and placed her hand on top of hers. "Are you alright? You look tired. I could cast a rejuvenation spell if you'd like."

"That might help. I'm far more tired than I thought I would be." She leaned back in her chair as the warmth of the spell cocooned her. Immediately, she felt refreshed. Smiling in gratitude toward Wynne, she stood up. "Now that we've all had our fill of Alistair's collection of fine cheeses, we should rejoin the others."

Griffon happily took the lead as the five women walked toward the door. The guardsmen escorted them to the dining room where they found their male companions waiting. After eating a light meal, Alistair led his wife back to their quarters. Once they were alone, his eyes danced with delight.

"So… I've been wondering. How did you like the foods I chose for your soiree?" He looked at her with a silly grin as he pulled her into his arms.

"You may have created a monster. All the ladies were thrilled that I had each of their regions finest cheese and were quite surprised that I would use the food as a means to forge bonds between us all. I believe I am the most popular woman in Denerim." Delia looked up at him as his chest reverberated with his laughter. "Oh, was it supposed to be funny? The ladies thought it was brilliant, but if you don't wish to have the compliment…"

"No, no, I'm glad it went over so well. I was just thinking of the commotion that paraded past the doors of the drawing room. I looked out of the doors and saw the guards dragging away some girl. You wouldn't have any idea what happened, would you?" he asked in amusement.

"That would have been Lady Habren, Arl Bryland's daughter. The girl has no sense of propriety and staged a little revolt of a sort; by refusing to greet me according to protocol and destroying a tea set that belonged to your father. I've had experience with her years ago, and wouldn't allow her to get away with her behavior." She looked at Alistair with the most contrite look she could muster. "I hope she didn't disturb you."

Alistair laughed heartily. "Well, you couldn't exactly ignore the racket coming from her mouth. Maker, but that girl has quite a rich vocabulary! Several of the men looked out to see what was happening, and when they returned, they were saying she was quite a handful, and it was about time that girl was taught a lesson. They were even patting me on the back, telling me that you must be quite a catch if you could handle that shrew as well as you did!"

Delia sat in her favorite chair and leaned her chin on her hand. "I hope Arl Bryland wasn't embarrassed. He is such a gentleman; I can't imagine how his daughter turned out to be such a monster."

Alistair sat on the ottoman in front of his wife and motioned for her to lean back. He picked up her feet and placed them in his lap, removed one of her shoes and started to gently massage her foot. "Bryland left the room and spoke to the quards when one of the banns told him it was his daughter. When he returned, he looked uncomfortable for a moment, but ended up being one of the men who congratulated me on your behalf."

"Really?" Delia looked at him curiously.

"He knows what an insufferable creature he has for a daughter. He admitted it to me. I felt sorry for him; I'm certain he will have a very unpleasant evening." He looked at her lovingly. "Right now, it's time for you to forget all the difficulties of your day. I promised to be your humble servant for the evening."

Delia watched her husband as he rubbed her foot. There was only one thing she wanted. "Alistair…"

He looked deeper into her eyes. "Ye-ees?" he answered in an almost sing-song way.

"Let's go to bed." Delia's eyes were smoldering as she removed her feet from her husband's lap and stood up. He followed her lead, taking her hand gently and kissing her palm sensually.

"What can I say – your wish is my command." The two quickly undressed on their way to the bed. Only Griffon was left in the sitting room, looking at the trail of clothing leading to the bedroom. The poor dog moved to the far side of the room as he hoped to find a way to sleep, despite the noise coming from his humans.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Loss of Control

Gerod paced in front of the fireplace in his study. His men noticed a ship approaching the harbor of Val Royeaux, flying the colors of the Grey Wardens of Weisshaupt. Although he knew it was only a matter of time before he heard from his superiors, he had hoped to have more time to plan. All he could think about the last few weeks were the King and Queen of Ferelden. What could he have done differently to force his will upon them? What could he do now to repair the damage caused by his missteps with the queen? He needed to remember that, although she was Ferelden born, her training was Antivan. She was far less callow than he had anticipated.

Elyon had been no help to him. Sometimes he wondered why the Grey Wardens even allowed elves into their ranks. His own experience had shown that the elves could not form elaborate battle plans. The only thing he appreciated about his second in command was that the elf would obey orders, and was not trying to out maneuver him politically. The one downside of being in power was that others were always trying to take it away from you.

A knock on his door forced his pacing to stop. After calling out to enter, a young page opened the door and handed him a note. The wardens had arrived at the fortress. He quickly penned a reply to his head of staff and sent it back with the boy.

Gerod quickly walked to his quarters. He stood in front of his mirror and combed his hair, making certain that every hair was precisely in place. He then checked his teeth and his clothes: he needed to look impeccable before he would meet with the Weisshaupt wardens. Everything about him needed to convey his control. Today, the political games would begin, and Gerod intended to be the master of his destiny.

Finally deciding that everything was perfect, Gerod exited his room and walked with precision down the hallway toward the Great Hall. Perhaps his fellow wardens would expect a less formal greeting, but Gerod would be certain to observe even the tiniest piece of etiquette. He was in control of Orlais, and they would know that he was an immovable force.

Gerod reached the doors to his Great Hall and discovered that Elyon stood there, waiting. The elf nodded to his superior as Gerod motioned to his head of staff to announce him. The servant complied, and entered the room with a flourish.

"Gerod Caron, Warden Commander of Orlais, and Elyon Andras, Second Commander of Orlais."

The servant bowed respectfully as the commanders walked past him and ascended the podium at the front of the room. Sitting on the podium were two elaborate chairs. The wooden arms and legs were intricately carved, with the arms ending in griffon heads forever frozen in a battle cry. Every tiny bit of the wood was covered in gold leaf, and the cushions were covered in lush Orlesian purple velvet. These chairs looked every bit like thrones. Gerod stood in front of his chair for an extra moment as he looked over the people assembled in the room. He sat with a flourish and placed his right leg over the arm of the chair, looking very relaxed. Elyon sat next to him, watching his superior's exaggerated air of command. The elf usually was disturbed by his commander's behavior, but today Gerod seemed particularly self-absorbed.

The head of staff, a man named Dreu, stepped to the front of the podium, to the commander's left. "Presenting Wardens Naimes, Reinhard, Orton and Baldric, from Weisshaupt Fortress." Dreu bowed and walked backward until he reached the door. He quickly exited the room, not having any desire to witness whatever would transpire between these wardens and his Warden Commander.

"To what do I owe the _honor_ of a visit from Weisshaupt?" Gerod asked. His voice seemed to be thick with disdain.

Naimes grinned. He had seen this kind of behavior from the Orlesian nobles his entire life, having been born the third child of one of the more important families in Montsimmard. It was clear that Gerod felt his power threatened.

"Warden Commander Gerod Caron, I am Naimes. Commander of the Grey Wardens, Rudolph, of Weisshaupt Fortress sent us with a personal message. May I approach?" Naimes stood at attention, waiting for Gerod's approval, as he removed a sealed letter from his pocket. He could play the same etiquette game the commander played.

Gerod looked at the parchment in the warden's hand and nodded. _So, that's how it will be,_ Gerod thought to himself as the warden approached. Naimes held the letter out to him, and Gerod took it from him. After breaking the seal with his dagger, the commander read the note.

_Warden Commander Gerod of Orlais,_

_It has come to our attention that you nearly caused an international incident in Ferelden. Your behavior toward the newly crowned king and queen has left your effectiveness as warden commander in doubt. Naimes has been named as your replacement as Commander of the Grey Wardens of Orlais, effective immediately. Your orders are to travel to Weisshaupt Fortress along with your second, Elyon Andras, where you shall be interrogated and reassigned. The ship that brought Naimes to Val Royeaux has been paid in advance to return you to _

_Rudolph, First Warden_

_Weisshaupt Fortress_

Although Gerod was incensed, he dared not allow his face to show it. "Are we to travel alone? Or shall we choose some of our wardens to accompany us?"

Naimes shook his head. "You are to travel with Orton and Baldric. Their regiment currently waits in the courtyard. You shall have time to pack your belongings tonight. The tides dictate that the ship will depart at noon tomorrow."

Gerod stood up stiffly. "I suppose we should then attend to our packing." He turned to Elyon. "Come, Elyon. We must see to the comfort of our… guests. _Warden Commander_, I would ask your patience for tonight, as you will have to wait until tomorrow for your proper quarters."

Naimes bowed slightly. "But of course, _Warden Gerod_. It is to be expected, under the circumstances. If the servants would be kind enough to show us to adequate quarters, we would all be most appreciative."

Gerod clapped his hands, causing Dreu to run into the room. "Arrange for quarters for these four wardens, as well as barracks for the men in the courtyard."

"Yes, Warden Commander," Dreu mumbled, as he bowed and backed out of the room.

Gerod looked at the new Warden Commander of Orlais. "If you would excuse me; Elyon and I must begin to pack." He turned quickly and walked out, followed closely by his second.

Once they were in the hallway, Gerod motioned to Elyon to follow him. He led the elf to his study and closed the door behind them. Immediately, Gerod started to pace nervously. Elyon had seen his commander act this way many times before, so he knew the only thing for him to do was to sit and wait for Gerod to speak. He hoped his commander would form his words sooner rather than later, as he was anxious to begin his packing.

Naimes and Reinhard were given rooms next to each other. As soon as his pack was placed in his room, Reinhard returned to Naimes' room. He knew his commander would wish to talk about their strategy. Both men were originally from Orlais, and although Reinhard was not a noble, his bard training had taught him more about the intricacies of Orlesian politics than even his noble born commander knew.

Reinhard respected his commander, not because of Naimes' family, but because of what he had earned for himself. Naimes was a great warrior. His men followed him both for his prowess in battle and his fairness in dealing with his men. He masterfully played the political games of the Orlesians, but cared nothing about his personal position. The Grey Wardens were his life, his family, and his dedication earned the respect and loyalty of everyone around him.

In contrast, Gerod, made Reinhard's skin crawl. He remembered too well, the Orlesians who played the game soley for their own political gains. Reinhard was never more grateful than the day the Grey Wardens saved him from his bard master. He despised using his mind and body for his master's politics. If any man could remove the Grey Wardens from the midst of the Orlesian's turmoil, Reinhard believed Naimes could.

He opened the door to Naimes' room and entered, quickly shutting it behind him. Naimes gestured to his second to sit.

"Be honest, Reinhard. Your impressions are important to me." Naimes looked at his friend seriously.

"Gerod has created a seat of power for himself. His men will be difficult to win over. You may need to… cull the herd, so to speak. We shall need to be cautious and slowly determine which men are true wardens and which are his puppets."

Naimes raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Then it is good that I have a bard of your standing on my side, my friend. I assume you have already put out… feelers?"

"But of course!" Reinhardt walked across the room to where Naimes had already set out his personal decanter of cognac. After pouring two glasses, he handed one to Naimes and sat back down. "May I propose a toast: to rejoining _the game_ after learning the true ways of the world. May we find a way to convince our Orlesian brethren to become less self-centered and more concerned with saving all of Thedas."

Naimes tapped his glass against his friend's with a loud clink. "We shall need the assistance of the Maker himself, if we are to change the extravagant ways of our countrymen. For now, let us simply focus on deciding who our friends are and who the foes."

Gerod and Elyon dutifully followed Orton and Baldric onto the ship. The majority of their belongings would be shipped to Weisshaupt on a later ship because they sailed on a smaller, faster vessel that had little room in the cargo hold. As they strode across the deck, Gerod took note of the small dinghies that lay on the edges of the deck in case of emergency. He would make use of the one closest to the stern of the ship. When they were shown their room, Gerod suddenly felt a rush of hope. The two men were assigned a small room, deep in the hold of the ship. Perhaps Gerod's plans for escape would work after all.

They set sail at noon, the waning tide helping to carry the ship out to sea. Gerod and Elyon stood on the deck as they watched the shoreline. If Gerod's plan was to work properly, he would have to make his move when they had traveled to a point just west of Orzammar. The timing would have to be perfect, but Gerod had confidence. It would work.

The winds had been uncooperative. It had taken twice as long as Gerod expected before he saw the entrance to the bay outside of Orzammar. Elyon had performed his ordered tasks, carefully stashing their armor and weapons in the rear-most dinghy during the nights, carefully eluding the sailors. Finally, it was time to make their move. That night, when the majority of the men onboard were asleep, Gerod pulled the explosives from his pack. He meticulously attached them to the floor beneath the waterline. Carefully, he attached a length of fusing wick to the package. With a nod to Elyon, the elf opened the door. Gerod lit the fuse, and the two quickly made their way to the ship's deck. They carried as much gold as they dared, but little else. Quickly, they lowered the dinghy into the water and Elyon carefully entered the small boat. Gerod hastily handed him their supplies, and joined his companion. As they cast off, the ship exploded. Shards of wood flew everywhere; the wardens only avoiding death by laying low against the boards of their small boat. The two men didn't speak. Instead, once the shrapnel stopped flying past, they set the oars in place and used every bit of strength they had to propel themselves as fast as possible toward the shore.

The sun was rising when Gerod and Elyon struggled past the crashing waves at the shoreline. They pulled themselves onto the sand and collapsed in exhaustion. Gerod knew they didn't dare stay out in the open, so after a short rest he urged his companion onward to find a safe place to camp. After hiding the dinghy, they found a perfect spot at the edge of the woods. Firewood was plentiful, so they quickly built a fire pit and had a fire to help them dry. They dared the fates and slept for hours, waking mid-afternoon.

Elyon brought his bow and arrows, and it wasn't long before he had shot several rabbits for their dinner. Rabbit roasted on a spit was the simplest meal either of the men had eaten in years, yet it couldn't have been more welcome. As they ate in silence, Gerod's mind raced. They needed to find a port city where mercenaries could be hired and supplies purchased. Jader was nearby, and the two felt they could pass easily without drawing attention to themselves. The docks would have plenty of people looking for work.

_Yes, _Gerod thought to himself, _Jader will have everything we need. From there, we send spies into Ferelden and wait for the moment to strike. I will have my vengeance against the Ferelden king and queen. How dare they ruin my position with the Grey Wardens? They should fear me…_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Wardens and Preparations

Aeden stood on the Denerim docks with Egon and Scipio. They watched as a regiment of Grey Wardens disembarked from an Orlesian ship. Egon looked pleased as he noticed one of the men walking down the gangplank.

Egon motioned toward the man as he drew closer. "Aeden, that is Warden Antoine, from the Orlesian Grey Wardens. I've worked with him often in the past. He'll be your second at Vigil's Keep, and I can vouch for the fact that he's a very good man. I think you'll like him – his sense of humor should suit you."

Antoine noticed Egon and walked toward the three wardens as his eyes lit up with recognition. Once he stood in front of Egon, he took his hand in a warrior's handshake. "Second Warden, what a nice surprise to find you here, welcoming my men and me. It is good to see you, my friend."

"Antoine, you already know Scipio," he said as the Orlesian warden greeted the warden from Weisshaupt. "May I introduce you to your new Warden Commander, Aeden?"

"Well met, Warden Commander. I look forward to working with you at Vigil's Keep, as well as hearing stories of your war against the Blight." He reached out and shook Aeden's hand.

"I'm certain we'll have plenty of time to share our adventures, once the keep is organized." Aeden turned to lead the men up a slight hill to where the wardens were gathering.

Egon walked up the path with his hands behind his back. "Antoine, you will leave the day after tomorrow with your people. King Alistair has graciously promised an escort of Denerim soldiers to bring you to the keep. Once you are there, I expect you to organize the facility. There may be repairs needed from the Blight. It is my understanding; the keep has had no arl since before the archdemon was killed, so you will need to recruit various workers." They stopped in front of the gathered wardens, and Egon called for their attention.

"Wardens, welcome to Denerim. Most of you know me, but for those who do not, I am Second Warden Egon of Weisshaupt. May I present to you your new Warden Commander, Aeden, of Ferelden?"

Egon motioned to Aeden, who nodded graciously at his superior before speaking to the men. "Wardens, it is my pleasure to welcome you to Ferelden. King Alistair asked me to convey his greetings as well. I am looking forward to making the acquaintance of each and every one of you, and am confident that together, we will have an order of Grey Wardens that will make Weisshaupt proud." The men cheered, and Aeden continued once they quieted. "King Alistair has graciously arranged for your lodging tonight, and invited you to a celebration tomorrow evening. Please follow our escort, who will lead you to the palace and your quarters."

A regiment of guards led the wardens to the palace, where they were met by Seamus. He had his own small army of servants ready to show the men to their rooms. The wardens rejoined their new commander in the dining hall for a mid-afternoon snack after they were settled.

Aeden sat with Antoine, Egon and Scipio as they discussed Antoine's new duties. As the wardens enjoyed their food and camaraderie, Alistair and Delia approached the door. Alistair stopped at the entrance, a contemplative look on his face.

"Alistair, are you alright?" Delia was worried. She remembered how lost he had been after the wardens were killed at Ostagar. She feared he might be suffering a flashback.

He looked at her and smiled sadly. "Do you remember when you asked me what it was like to be with the other wardens? This," he motioned toward the wardens, "is exactly what it was like. Do you see how they all like each other? How they are laughing, poking and teasing? This is the way I remember my friends, Delia. I miss them all."

She put her hand on his cheek. "I know, my love." Delia reached up and kissed him softly. "Are you ready to be the wardens' king?"

"With you beside me, I can do anything." He offered his arm to her.

After she placed her hand in the crook of Alistair's arm, he motioned for Seamus to announce their arrival. As they entered the room, the wardens stood at attention until Alistair and Delia reached the head table and Alistair bade them to sit.

"My fellow Grey Wardens, I am honored to welcome each of you. Your arrival heralds a new era for the Grey Wardens here, in Ferelden. Please enjoy the comforts of our palace tonight. May the Maker watch over and guide you." Alistair looked over the men before he sat next to Delia.

The king and queen enjoyed their conversation with the senior wardens. When the men finished their snack, the royals had the rare opportunity to spend time together. They used the time to finalize the details of Duncan's nursery. Anna had located a cradle in the palace that was believed to have been Cailan's. It was carefully cleaned and new linens sewn, making the cradle appear new. The nursery was located within the royal quarters. Zevran had carefully screened applicants to be the baby's nanny. Several women remained on his list, as the final decision hadn't been made. No one was worried, as there was plenty of time before Duncan was expected to be born. Everything seemed to be according to plan. Duncan would be born soon enough, but, for the time being, the planning could remain at its easy pace.

"Anna, would you bring more parchment over here? I've run out."

Dairren didn't even look up, or he would have noticed the angry look on Anna's face. She stopped what she was doing. Obviously, her own writing could wait, as _the_ _master_ needed parchment. Anna abruptly stood and stomped across the room to the stack of blank parchment. _It isn't as though he couldn't get it himself. Maker, it's only at the end of his table - he might have to walk all of ten feet! His philosophy seems to be 'why do anything myself when I can get my slave girl to do it for me'. Oooh, he makes me so angry!_ She picked up a stack of parchment, trod to where Dairren was sitting, and slammed them onto the table next to where he was writing, causing him to smear his quill across his writing.

"Anna, would you be careful? Maker, now I have to rewrite this entire page." He looked up at her to discover she was glaring at him. "Why are you looking at me like that? That's the sort of look Mother used to give us when she was about ready to have our hides."

"If you were anywhere near as infuriating to your mother as you are to me, I can certainly understand why." She turned with a huff and tromped back to her seat.

"What in Andraste's name have I done now?" he asked. "I simply asked you to bring some parchment to me. You're acting as though I wanted you to punch a kitten!"

Anna looked at him in disbelief. "You honestly don't know what you did?"

"No! I asked you to bring me parchment. What's wrong with that?"

"Perhaps if you _had_ asked instead of _demanded_ it would be different; you never _ask_ for anything, you _demand_ it. I am tired of being treated as your personal servant. You are not my better, Dairren Loren."

He looked confused. "I never said I was… and if I didn't ask properly, I am sorry. Really. You know how much your… assistance means to me. The library would not be anywhere nearly as far reorganized if it weren't for you."

He noticed her eyes were filling with tears. Suddenly, he realized they were no longer talking about the parchment. He stood up slowly and walked to her table. As he sat across from her, he looked at her imploringly.

"Anna, what's wrong? The parchment hasn't gotten you that upset, has it? If so, tell me what I can do to make things better, other than my simple apology."

"Do you really want to know? I don't want to bother you with my insignificant troubles."

He reached across the table and put his hand on top of hers. He was unsure of what to say, but knew he had to try to say something… right. "Anna, if I can assist you with whatever it is that troubles you, I would be happy to help. I know that I'm not the most… perceptive person, so please speak frankly."

"Why do I even bother… it's not as though you'd understand anyway."

Dairren smiled as he remembered his sister using those very words. It was time for the Spring Ball at their school, and Delia wanted to look pretty, but didn't know where to buy a dress, or how to style her hair. She was frustrated and had no one to talk to, so she came to her brother. He arranged for an older girl to help her, and Delia attended the ball without feeling as self-conscious.

"I might surprise you. Sometimes I'm not as insensitive as I seem. Anna, tell me what's wrong. I just might be able to help."

Anna looked into his eyes. He seemed to be sincere, and so she decided to trust him. "It's just that the king and queen have this… party for Warden Aeden, and, even though I'm not from an important family, the queen has invited me. I haven't attended any formal affairs since I was t-t-taken… since I _left_ my family, so I don't have anything appropriate to wear."

Dairren nodded and placed his hand against his chin, tapping his cheek with his finger. "It's too late to have something sewn for you. I have an idea of what to do." Watching Anna raise her eyebrow, he continued. "Why don't you and I go into town after lunch? We can find a dress at one of the merchant's shops that would fit adequately. I'm certain it wouldn't take very long, and we can see if Delia has a servant who could help you with your hair, if you would like."

Anna looked surprised. She never expected Dairren to understand her plight. She smiled for the first time that Dairren could recall ever seeing.

"You would do that… for me? What about our work here?"

"The work will wait until tomorrow, but the dress certainly won't." He stood up and extended his hand across the table. "Come on, then; we'll have some lunch and venture into town. We don't have as much time as I would like, but it's enough!"

Anna placed her hand in his and she walked around the end of the table. Once she stood next to him, he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, smiled at her, and led her to the dining room. He hoped they would find a dress that she not only liked, but loved. Her smile was much prettier than the blank stare she usually had, unless she was angry, and he wanted to see more of it.

The evening's dinner was somewhat of an informal affair. Alistair wanted to have the opportunity to mingle with the wardens, which upset his guards. If it were not for the insistence of the king, he would have been sequestered to the head table. Delia watched the activity from the table, mostly because it was tiring to move around the room as much as her husband was. There were few wardens who approached her for conversations; it was interesting that these were mostly the handful of women wardens among the group. Once the meal was over, Delia was grateful to return to their quarters to sleep. The following day would be a busy one. Aeden's reception would be in the evening, and Delia had a great deal to oversee during the day, to ensure the event's success.

On their way down the hallways, Dairren approached the king and queen.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have a favor to ask, sister," he asked, quietly.

"What can I do for you? Do you need something for the library?" she answered.

"No, it isn't exactly for _me_. It's for Lady Anna." Dairren explained the events of the afternoon. Luckily, they had indeed found a dress that Anna liked, and she seemed to be genuinely excited about the celebration. "The favor I'm asking is would it be possible for Lady Anna to be a part of your little hair styling event? I know you'll have one. That is, unless you've hired someone special just for that task."

Delia laughed and hit her brother on his arm. "No, I haven't hired someone just to style my hair. And, of course I would be very pleased to have Lady Anna join us. Please tell her we will be meeting in my room mid-afternoon. If she has any questions, please ask Leliana or Elizabeth. I'm going to get some sleep." She kissed Dairren on the cheek to say goodnight before Alistair led her back to their rooms.

Dairren walked to the library and wrote a note to Anna. He told her to when and where to meet Delia, as well as to direct any questions to the queen's two friends. Before he signed and sealed the note, he thought about adding one more thing. _Should I offer to escort her? Would she be offended?_ He pictured her in the elegant rose colored dress they purchased that afternoon. Deciding that he had nothing to lose, he included one, simple sentence. "_If you don't already have an escort, I would be most pleased if you would allow me the honor."_ As he sealed the note and handed it to a waiting page, he slumped in his seat. He had no right to expect anything. Hopefully, she would say yes, but he prepared himself for the alternative nonetheless. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he was rejected, nor would it be the last.

Dairren left the library and walked to his room. There was something very comforting about his room. Delia had made sure it was decorated comfortably, but it had the feel of a warm study. He enjoyed sitting in the leather chairs with his feet propped on the ottoman, while reading the latest book from the library that caught his attention. Ever since he was saved from Howe's dungeon, it was difficult to socialize. He still felt weak, and unworthy.

Thinking about the following night's party, he suddenly started to feel uneasy. Why did he offer to escort Anna? There was no reason to believe she could possibly want to go with him. Maybe he should send another note? She might believe he had been joking… could he salvage a working relationship? She already seemed to be angry with him all the time. He sat down on one of his chairs, scowling at himself for foolishly thinking that she might consider attending with him. A knock on the door pulled him out of his self-criticism. He opened the door to find a page waiting for him, holding a note. Thanking the page, he closed the door and returned to his chair.

Dairren's hands were shaking once he recognized the handwriting. He picked up a letter opener from his side table and carefully broke the wax seal. Slowly, he unfolded the note and started to read. His entire demeanor changed as the written words were unveiled in front of his eyes…

_Bann Dairren,_

_I would be honored for you to escort me to the celebration for Warden Commander Aeden. Why don't we meet in the library?_

_Until tomorrow,_

_Lady Anna_

Dairren grinned from ear to ear. Suddenly, he realized that he needed to decide what _he _should wear! Never before had he been so happy that his sister had a near obsession with making certain he had proper clothes for every occasion. As he walked to his wardrobe, he realized Delia had given him the perfect doublet. Reaching inside, he pulled out his black doublet with the roses embroidered along the collar. The color wasn't a perfect match for Anna's dress, but it would be close enough. He thought about how wonderful the party was going to be, now that Anna would be at his side. For the first time in months, his dreams weren't filled with nightmares.

The following morning the palace was a flurry of activity. Delia was escorted by Seamus and her guard as they attended to every detail for the party. The queen was pleased with Seamus' meticulousness. The cooks were preparing an incredible feast, with all of Aeden's favorite foods. The butler's selection of fine wines and spirits would be well suited for the various tastes, and he had included the Antivan brandy the group was so fond of. Seamus personally selected the decorations for the hall. There were banners in the Grey Warden colors alongside the colors of Ferelden's king.

After they ate lunch, Delia went to her room. She wanted to rest before the festivities, so she treated herself to a bath and took a short nap. Elizabeth and Leliana arrived mid-afternoon to begin their personal preparations, with Anna joining them shortly after. After the women were dressed, Leliana and Delia styled each other's hair while Elizabeth and Anna helped each other. Delia was pleased that Anna seemed to slip easily into their group's camaraderie. It didn't take long all four women had hairstyles that complimented their overall appearances. Leliana had bought some jeweled hairpins and combs at the market specifically to enhance the teal fabric of Delia's dress. Delia was delighted with the result.

The women were still chatting as Delia stood up to see them out. As she turned around, she saw they were not alone. Alistair had come in and was leaning against the wall, looking at her like a love starved teenager. He looked incredibly handsome, wearing shiny black boots, black breeches, and a teal doublet made from the same fabric as Delia's dress. A shy smile crossed Delia's lips as she nodded to acknowledge his presence, but she said nothing until the other ladies were out of the door.

Delia walked up to Alistair and placed her hands on his shoulders. He responded by placing his hands on her waist and looking deeply into her eyes. "My, my, Alistair… if I knew how incredible you would look in teal, I would have insisted that you have doublets made for every day of the week in this very shade. How did you manage to get this made, given your time constraints?"

"You ask me as if I had a choice in the matter." Alistair laughed at the memory. "Your seamstress simply insisted that she had to make a matching doublet for me. When I tried to tell her how impossible my schedule has been and that I couldn't arrange for a fitting, she insisted on borrowing one of my doublets, using measurements from it to make this one. You know, my dear, the way your staff goes out of their way to make you look good, I had best be on my best behavior. They simply adore you. I'm afraid what might happen if I were to disappoint any of them."

His face suddenly looked fearful. "I know what they'd do – they'd hide my cheese! What would I do when I need that late night snack if I don't know where my cheese is? I'd have to lead a search, and that could only end in misery for us all."

Delia smacked him on his arm, earning a yelp of surprise from him that immediately changed to laughter. "You are incorrigible. Whatever will I do with you?"

He faced her and started to pull her close. "I can think of quite a few things…" He kissed her softly before pushing back with a soft sigh. "Unfortunately, we need to behave like royalty, for now. At least I have you a bit more relaxed. You were looking far too serious this morning, my love."

She reached up and kissed him on his cheek. "You're a lucky man, Alistair. Maker knows; if you weren't so adorable, I'd…"

"You'd what? Hide my collection of statuettes? Make me walk the halls without my pants?" He grinned, his mischievous lopsided grin, earning the same in return from his wife.

"No… I think I have an even better idea. Perhaps I could convince Fiona to turn you into a toad…"

Pulling her back into a tight hug, he chuckled. "I always knew you were evil. It's from all that time you spent with Morrigan, collecting your herbs."

"Alright, enough with the procrastinating, dear husband; let's go." Delia took her husband's arm as they walked out the door. Their guards were waiting in the hallway. They fell into position as the king and queen started down the long corridor. Even the guards were looking forward to the festivities. It promised to be an interesting evening.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Party and its Aftermath

Dairren stood in the library waiting for Anna. He nervously wrung his hands as he paced in front of the windows. What if she had changed her mind? Maybe she thought it would be unseemly for her to be escorted by the deceased Bann Loren's son. He reached his hand around to scratch the back of his neck. The soft sound of someone clearing their throat made him turn around.

There, standing at the doorway, was Anna. Her dress looked beautiful, and he was happy to see that, although her hair had some curls, she wore it down. It framed her face and made her eyes shine brightly. She smiled demurely as he walked toward her.

"My lady, you look lovely this evening," he said as he took her hand and kissed the knuckle softly.

"Thank you, my lord." Anna blushed, making her cheeks look as if they were reflecting the rose color from her dress.

Dairren held his arm out. "Shall we?"

With a quick nod, Anna took hold of his elbow. Dairren escorted her to the Great Hall. They sat at a table reserved for Aeden's friends, joining them, was Oghren, Trent, Leliana, Elizabeth and Zevran. Soon they were joined by Wynne, Fiona and Kinnon. Dairren felt more comfortable, sitting with the people he knew well. It wasn't long before the group was conversing easily.

Alistair made sure the men didn't walk down the corridors too quickly, knowing Delia's pregnancy made it more difficult for her to walk. When they arrived at the doors to the Great Hall, Seamus bowed to the couple before entering the room for their arrival announcement. The nobles and wardens moved to the sides of the room, making a wide aisle for the royals, as they bowed respectfully.

The king and queen took their places at the head table. Sitting with them were Aeden, Fergus, Egon, Teagan, Scipio, and Antoine. The guests took their places at the tables and dinner was served. Delia was seated next to Egon for the evening. As he spoke to her, she was duly impressed by his honesty and genuine belief in the work of the wardens. Egon had not been conscripted, but had joined the wardens when they recruited at a tournament in his small town, west of Weisshaupt. He had a way of telling his stories with great humor, and Delia found she was completely enjoying the evening.

When the meal was finished, the servants led the guests to the Ballroom. A band of minstrels tuned their instruments and soon the nobles took to the dance floor. Alistair kissed Delia's hand. He could see how much she wanted to dance, but knew it would be very uncomfortable for her. It was better for him to follow her lead. If she wanted to dance a particular dance, she would tell him and then he would do his best to not look like a fool. He would do anything to make her happy!

As they watched their guests perform the intricate steps of a dance from South Reach, the royals' reverie was disturbed by none other than Habren. She approached the king and queen with a brashness that would have had the guard stop her in her tracks, had she breached any point of etiquette. Instead, she seemed to flaunt every movement she made. The worst part was when she curtsied in front of the king. Habren's dress was fashioned in the current Orlesian style, which was cut in a very deep square across her chest. Her bosom was held by a corset, pushing the cleavage upward, leaving little to the imagination. Alistair blushed when she presented herself, embarrassed for the girl and her father. He looked around the room for the arl, who stood near the wall with his hand across his face as if he didn't wish to watch his daughter's antics.

After acknowledging the girl politely, she finally walked toward her father, throwing a flirty smile over her shoulder as she left. Alistair looked at his wife. "Would you care to join me, my dear? I find that I would like some air." He tried to keep his face stoic, but Delia could feel his discomfort.

"Of course, Alistair, I would appreciate it. I'm finding it a bit stuffy in here."

They walked out of the room and gathered an escort before walking to the garden. The night was cool, but after the heat of the Ballroom, it was refreshing.

"Alright, now that we're alone, do you have any idea as to how I could have handled that… situation any better?" He looked at her for support. "You know I've had very little experience with women, but I think she was being a bit… forward, don't you?"

"Your instincts are better than you give yourself credit for. You handled the situation perfectly. She was following protocol precisely, which is exactly what you gave back to her." Delia grinned at him. "It doesn't hurt that half the nobles noticed as you led me out. We should both make sure we're smiling at each other when we walk back in… it'll certainly give them all something to talk about."

He raised his eyebrow conspiratorially. "I like how you think. Shall we return then?"

Delia took his arm and they walked back to the party. Both the king and queen smiled broadly at each other as they walked into the room. One of the slower courtly dances was being performed. Alistair bowed to his wife and asked if she would like to join the dance. With a nod from his wife, he led her to the dance floor. Many of the nobles watched the couple from the sides of the room. Most of them seemed to delight seeing the royals as they obviously enjoyed themselves. One woman, however, made no attempt to hide her displeasure at the sight. Habren's face fell. She spun on her heel, grabbed her father's arm and pulled him out from the room. Delia and Alistair were unaware of her departure, as they were truly enjoying their dance.

Dairren watched as his sister danced with her husband and he suddenly felt panicked. He hadn't even asked if Anna would like to dance yet, and he started to feel very awkward. She seemed to be enjoying herself, even though he hadn't danced with her. Then, what seemed to be the most horrible thing possible happened. Aeden's new second in command, Antoine, approached Anna and asked for a dance. She looked down for a moment; then looked at Dairren. Seeing how unhappy and nervous he had suddenly become, she sweetly looked up at the warden.

"Warden Antoine, as much as I appreciate your kind invitation, Dairren has been trying to convince me to dance all evening. I promised I would dance the next dance with him. I hope you understand."

Antoine bowed to her. "Ah, I understand, my lady. Enjoy your dance. Perhaps we will have an opportunity later."

As the warden walked away, Dairren looked at Anna with his mouth open in shock. Taking his hand in hers, Anna stood up.

"Alright, Dairren, time to dance. Don't make me a liar!"

They walked onto the dance floor and Dairren finally found his voice. "Why did you do that? I mean… I have no hold on you; you could dance with him if you wanted…"

She looked at him as if she understood him better than he knew himself. "Dairren, I know you are… shy. I also know that you wouldn't ask to escort me to this party if you had no intention of joining in the festivities and dancing. You are too well educated. I just felt that, perhaps, it was time for me to take the matter into my own hands."

He looked at her gratefully. "Anna, you are… amazing. Thank you."

"For what?" she asked.

"Just for… understanding me. You have no idea how much I appreciate that."

They danced the rest of the evening. Delia watched her brother happily. She hoped that he had finally found someone who could give him the happiness he deserved.

The party seemed to be a tremendous success. As the guests started to leave, Delia felt relief. She was exhausted and needed some sleep, but couldn't leave until the final guest was gone. Finally the nobles were gone, leaving some of the wardens as well as their commanders. Aeden noticed how tired Delia looked. He pulled Alistair aside and whispered in his ear. Alistair nodded and walked to her side.

"Delia, love, let's go to our quarters. Aeden can take over the remaining host duties for the wardens."

Delia looked at the group of warden officers. "You don't mind if we leave? I must admit, I am rather tired…"

Fiona reached over and touched her arm. "Go and sleep, Delia. We'll see you at breakfast, I'm sure."

With a grateful nod, Delia took her husband's arm and allowed him to lead her upstairs. Once in their quarters, he carefully helped her unlace the complicated dress, remove the decorations from her hair and then put her to bed. She seemed to fall asleep immediately as her head hit the pillow, leaving Alistair watching her. He gently stroked her hair before he changed for bed. As he lay next to her, his thoughts returned to their conversation earlier in the day. When she told him he was a lucky man, she could never truly understand how lucky he felt. He kissed her gently on her cheek and settled in to sleep.

The following morning, the newly formed Ferelden Wardens massed in the courtyard of the palace. Antoine and Aeden stood near the steps, discussing final arrangements for the wardens once they arrived at Vigil's Keep. Aeden would join his wardens soon. For now, he would stay in Denerim, until after Delia and Alistair's child was born and had his naming ceremony. Between the wardens and the regiment of palace soldiers who were to be their escort, the courtyard was nearly full. Several wagons were packed with supplies. Extra armor and armaments filled another wagon. Finally, the men were lined up as the king and queen joined the commanders to wish them well.

Antoine was beaming with excitement. It was the first time he had been assigned to be the second in command. That, plus the fact that he would be working with one of the heroes of the Ferelden Blight, made him beam with pride. From the time he was a small child, his dream was to be a Grey Warden. He could hardly believe his luck when, ten years prior, the wardens came to his village to recruit. Somehow he had impressed them, even though his father was the town's blacksmith. The past decade had been the best years of his life. Now he would lead his men to their new assignment and ready the keep for his commander.

The king gave a short speech to the wardens. Egon spoke next, wishing the men well on their assignment. Finally, Aeden spoke as their commander.

"My fellow Grey Wardens: today marks an important day for wardens and Ferelden alike. Today, a new era begins for the Grey Wardens, as you begin your new assignment at Vigil's Keep. You know what you have to do, so I will not bore you with a long speech. Simply know that Ferelden supports you. I will rejoin you soon. Until then, I expect you will follow Antoine without fail. May the Maker watch over you." He stood straighter, and looked around at each of his wardens as he drew his sword and raised it above his head. "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. For the Grey Wardens!"

The assembled men all cheered. As the royals turned to reenter the palace, Egon and Aeden gave their men one final salute before they followed the king inside. Antoine raised his right arm above his head, motioning for the men to begin their journey. He had no idea what would greet them once they arrived at the keep, but he was ready to meet the challenge.

Dairren sat in the library, nervously waiting for Anna to join him. He hoped to the Maker that he didn't embarrass himself the night before. He _thought _they had both enjoyed themselves, but Anna didn't show at breakfast and was late to start their work. Perhaps she was avoiding him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and Anna stepped inside. She looked at him and smiled nervously.

"You're late… I was… worried." Dairren looked at the floor, too afraid to see the rejection he expected.

"I'm sorry, Dairren, I overslept." She walked over to her table and sat in front of the stack of books she was cataloguing. "I missed breakfast altogether, and by the time I made it to the dining room, the wardens had finished everything there was to eat."

"Did you find anything to eat? I mean, you need to eat breakfast. We were always taught it is the most important meal of the day."

Anna laughed. "Yes, the cook took pity on me and fried a couple of eggs. Luckily, she's grown rather fond of me."

"That was kind of her. I'm glad you ate something." He continued to look at the floor.

Anna watched him as he seemed to put a wall around himself. She wasn't going to allow him to return to where they started when they first met, when he would barely speak to her. The party had shown her such a different side of his personality, a side she could easily grow to like.

She walked over and sat across the table from Dairren. "Dairren, would you look at me? Did I do something or say something to upset you?"

He looked up at her, but was confused. "I… I thought that maybe I embarrassed you. That you were avoiding me this morning because of it…"

Anna shook her head. "Dairren, I would think that you'd know me well enough by now to know that I would tell you if you did something wrong. I happened to have a wonderful time with you. I hope you enjoyed yourself as well."

"I… I did." He tried to say something and stopped, then took a deep breath before he finally spoke. "It's just that you looked so beautiful, and I simply didn't deserve to be with someone like you."

"Like me? What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you know… nasty old Bann Loren's son… the worthless brother of the queen of Ferelden."

"Dairren, your father was a louse, but that certainly didn't pass on to either you or your sister. And as for your being worthless, you are anything but. I can't remember ever having the pleasure of having anyone of your intelligence in my circle of acquaintances. I never want to hear you describe yourself that way ever again."

Again he looked at the floor. "You don't really know me, Anna. I'm… a coward."

"What could you have done to warrant being called a coward?"

He looked at her sadly and sighed. "I've never talked about this with anyone, Anna, and I'm not sure I'm ready to start now."

Anna reached across and took his hand in hers. "Maybe you need to talk about it so you can get past it, whatever it is. I promise to listen and not judge you, Dairren."

He stood up and walked to the door. "I'm not ready, Anna. Perhaps another time. If… you'll excuse me, I think I need some fresh air." Dairren walked out of the library, leaving a confused and frustrated Anna behind.

She wondered if she should go after him, but decided against it. Anna would have to be patient until he was ready to speak of whatever it was that troubled him. She tried to concentrate on her work, but couldn't get him out of her mind. Several minutes passed until she heard footsteps in the hallway. She looked up from her work hopefully, but had to try to hide her worries when Delia walked through the door.

"Good morning, Anna." Delia looked around the library and frowned. "I… was hoping to find my brother. Do you know where he is?"

Anna shook her head. "He left a few minutes ago, saying he needed some fresh air."

"Ah, perhaps he went to the garden. Thank you, Anna."

As Delia started to turn back to the door, Anna spoke. "Your Majesty, I am… concerned about Dairren. Would you have a minute to talk?"

"Of course, Anna, what's on your mind?" she said as she walked to the table where Anna sat and took a seat across from her.

"He was acting a bit… strangely. I overslept this morning, and he seemed to think I was embarrassed by him last night. When I told him that I would have said something, he said he didn't feel he deserved to escort someone like me, that he was a worthless coward. I then asked what he could have done to deserve being thought a coward, and he said he had never spoken about it and wasn't ready to yet. That was just before he left." Anna looked at the queen, her demeanor reflecting her concern. "He's never told me very much about his life, although in all fairness, I haven't told him much of mine either. Did something happen to him; something that would make him so shy and self-deprecating?"

Delia sighed. It had been so wonderful to see her brother the night before, looking as happy as he did as he danced with Anna. She almost believed he had overcome the torture he had endured at Howe's hands. It wasn't her place to tell Anna what had happened to Dairren.

"Anna, I wish I could tell you the parts that I know, but it would be inappropriate for me to speak of things he himself isn't prepared to share. May I make a suggestion?" Delia watched Anna for her nod before she continued. "Perhaps you could find a way to share your life story with him. If he feels that you can trust him with what has happened to you, he may feel comfortable revealing his experiences with you."

Anna looked uncomfortable. She hadn't told anyone why she had ended up working at the palace. Even thinking about her parents was upsetting. However, maybe Delia was right. She couldn't expect Dairren to be comfortable talking to her if she wasn't willing to try to be able to talk to him.

"I'll try, your Majesty. Thank you for the advice."

Delia stood up from the table. "If you can get him to talk, I think it will help him tremendously. Please don't hesitate to speak to me again if you need me." She walked over to the door, turning once more while her hand held the handle. "Oh, and Anna, I think you have already helped him a great deal. I never saw him as happy as he was last night. Thank you, for being a friend to him."

As the queen left the room, Anna took in a deep breath, releasing it through her mouth in a slow stream. It was far easier to bury herself in books and historical documents, than to try to break down the walls Dairren had created. Now it was time for her to come up with a plan. She hoped that, somehow, she would figure out the right one.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Habren's Folly

Several days had passed since the celebration for Aeden's appointment. Anna entered the library, prepared for another day of discomfort. Dairren was still acting very uncomfortable around her, and she was losing her patience.

"Dairren, Delia is having another ladies' tea today. It's the farewell celebration, before the members of the Landsmeet return to their homes. She's asked me to attend. I hope you don't mind if I'm away for several hours." She purposely didn't look up from her work, and tried to keep her voice from revealing her feelings.

He looked across the room at her. "You don't need my permission" he said. Although he tried to keep his own voice from betraying his thoughts, his eyes showed his inner turmoil.

Anna took in a deep breath to calm herself before she responded. "I realize I don't need your permission, but we've been working together for quite some time on this library. I didn't want to simply disappear."

"I hope you have a good time. I'm glad Delia invited you. You… deserve to be included."

She scowled at him. "I'm not sure if that's an insult. Does that mean you've decided that I have some worth?"

He rubbed his temple nervously. "No, no, I don't mean to insult you, and I've known that you are very worthy for a long time. It's just… oh, never mind."

She stood up, her face clearly showing how annoyed she was with the man. "I think I will take more time to ready myself. I will see you tomorrow, Dairren."

Anna walked out of the room without looking back. Dairren put his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands. It seemed he had ruined his budding friendship, and he had no idea what he could do to fix it.

There was only one reason why Delia was looking forward to that afternoon's tea: she wouldn't have to see the noble women again until the spring Landsmeet. It wasn't that she really minded most of the ladies, but it meant that Habren would be sent back to her father's estate. The young woman had been running rampant through Denerim. Complaints had been brought to Alistair's attention. It seemed that the merchants had been especially hard hit by Habren's antics: if she didn't like a particular fabric, she tended to drop it into the mud; if she didn't like a perfume, she would shatter the bottle against the wall of a building. The merchants wanted reimbursement for their losses, and already the court found Arl Bryland responsible for more than fifty sovereigns to pay for her damages.

For this tea, Delia decided to choose the menu rather than allow her husband to take responsibility. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the cheeses he chose for the previous party; she felt it would be better if she kept the event a bit more… traditional. The cooks prepared a selection of finger sandwiches and sweets. Delia couldn't help but smile, as she thought of how Sten would have responded to the platters of cookies the staff already had arranged.

Leliana and Elizabeth helped her choose her dress. It was a beautiful sky blue, with white satin forming a collar. Delia loved how comfortable it felt, even while it brought the onlooker's attention upward to her face. Anna located a piece of jewelry from the treasury that would look splendid with the dress. It was a large oval moonstone, encircled by brilliant blue topaz stones. It had once belonged to Vanedrin Theirin's wife, but had been kept, unworn, in a small chest; hidden away for decades. Delia supported Anna's efforts and dedication to bringing Ferelden's history back to life, and truly was excited to wear the jewels.

Delia was happy when her guards arrived to escort her to the tea. Elizabeth was waiting with the men in the hallway, and the two women chatted happily as they walked through the hallways. Delia suddenly remembered something that she needed to speak to Elizabeth about. Placing her hand on the elf's arm, she stopped in the hall.

"Oh, Elizabeth, I forgot to tell you. I spoke to Jacob, the gardener, about your friend, Sebastian. He would be very interested in having an assistant. Would you please arrange a time for Sebastian to meet with Jacob and Zevran? You should ask Zev if there are any other people he feels should be there as well."

Elizabeth's face radiated happiness. "Thank you, your Majesty. This means so much to me. I can't believe you would do this for me."

Delia hugged her friend. "You have become a dear friend, Elizabeth. I would do whatever I could to make your life better, I hope you know that."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but you are the first human I have ever considered a… a friend." Elizabeth's eyes started to fill with tears, but she steadied herself by taking a deep breath.

Delia took Elizabeth's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "If only we could avoid the snake pit!" Both women laughed, knowing how much they both wished they could be anywhere else for the afternoon.

Their small group walked the rest of the way to the Sitting room. Seamus was waiting for them at the door. He smiled and nodded at his queen, after she returned his nod, he entered the Sitting room to announce her. Delia entered the room, with Elizabeth following closely. The noblewomen bowed appropriately as she made her appearance. Delia looked around, trying to notice where the various women stood. Leliana and Anna stood at the window, both earning their queen's smile. Habren stood near the refreshments. Although she seemed to be following protocol, there was something about her facial expression that Delia felt warranted further investigation. Delia made a mental note to use her talent on the woman to determine what was on her mind.

As soon as the formalities of the event were over and the women could be a bit more relaxed, they all milled around the queen. Delia had become very popular with the noblewomen after the success of both the previous tea and the party for Aeden. They each seemed to want to garner her favor, and Delia found herself feeling smothered by all the attention. Elizabeth noticed Delia's face as it started to pale. She created a path through the women, leading the queen to her chair. Delia felt better once she sat, but immediately was surrounded yet again by the women.

Leliana brought a cup of tea and a small plate of food to Delia while Elizabeth asked the ladies if they would like to partake in the refreshments. Finally the crowd thinned, and Delia sipped her tea while she listened to the group that refused to leave her side. She set her cup on the small table next to her chair while she nibbled on a cucumber sandwich. The women in front of her were talking about the predictions for the weather they had heard from their bann's farmers, but Delia was paying more attention to the girls who stood in back of them. Ophelia and Imogen were standing near the wall, looking like deer caught in the crosshairs of a scope. Delia could tell they were up to something, but the girls were too far away to _see_ through her talent. Before the queen was able to do anything, the girls made their way toward the queen. Both of them seemed to trip, as if on cue. The contents of their plates and their cups of tea ended up all over the backs of Bann Alfstanna and her lady in waiting.

The room seemed to erupt in chaos as the two girls tried to help clean the mess they caused. Bann Alfstanna was understandably furious. Delia stood and tried to calm the noble and her servant. The women in the room milled around the bann, as they tried to help clean her dress. Both plates had held large slices of berry pie, topped high with whipped cream. The dresses were irreparably stained. The girls were, very loudly, giving impassioned apologies for the disaster they had caused.

No one watched Habren during this time, as the incident commanded everyone's attention. The young woman quietly walked over to the table next to the queen's chair and quickly emptied the contents of a small vial into her tea. Then she walked back to where she had been, near the refreshment table. A small smile crept across her face, as she watched everything that played out in front of her.

Delia finally convinced Alfstanna to sit with her. The room settled down and the ladies restarted their conversations as several servants made certain the floor was clean. The queen reached to her side and picked up her teacup. Habren watched in glee as Delia took a sip of the liquid. As soon as the substance entered her throat, Delia stiffened. Her hands started to shake as a panicked look spread across her face. The crashing of her cup and saucer against the floor caught the attention of her friends, who rushed to her side.

The queen clutched at her stomach in agony. She didn't remember ever feeling anything as painful before. "Leli," she gasped, "get Wynne or Fiona. There is something wrong."

Leliana ran to a guard and sent him to fetch the mages. Anna went to the queen's side, trying to comfort her as best she was able until help arrived. Elizabeth was suspicious. She noticed Habren standing in the corner with a smile on her face. It was rather odd, considering that every other woman in the room seemed to be very upset to see their queen take ill so quickly. The elf walked to another guard and asked him to find Zevran. She then ordered the guards to prevent anyone from leaving.

A very flustered Kinnon arrived. Leliana quickly walked to his side.

"Where are Wynne and Fiona?" she asked in annoyance.

The young mage nervously wrung his hands. "They went to the market to buy herbs. I sent a guard out to find them, but decided I'd better come. I may not be quite as powerful as they are, but I am skilled at Creation School Magic."

Leliana nodded and led him to the queen. He reached his hands out and tried to determine what was wrong. It was obvious to him she had been poisoned.

Taking Leliana aside, Kinnon looked at her seriously. "Someone has poisoned the queen. I'm not very familiar with poisons, but I do know that I need to know what symptoms to expect in order to heal her properly. Is there someone here in the palace that might be able to determine what it could be?"

Before Leliana could answer him, Zevran ran into the room. He hurried immediately to Delia's side and started his investigation. He looked at her skin color; the dilation of her eyes' pupils; the smell of her breath. Then he picked up her teacup and smelled it as well. His eyes narrowed in anger.

"Leliana, Elizabeth, have the guards assist our queen to her quarters. Kinnon, take this." Zevran reached into his pack and removed a vial of brownish fluid. "This is the antidote. You must mix this vial in a pitcher of water and force her to drink a glass every fifteen minutes. Between glasses, you must use your magic to try to keep her as comfortable as possible. This poison is very slow acting and very painful. Do exactly what I have told you. I will join you as soon as possible."

Kinnon nodded in agreement. Two of the guardsmen picked up the queen, creating a makeshift chair with their entwined arms. They hurried away with Delia as she moaned in agony. Leliana sent Anna with her to help comfort the queen. The bard knew her skills would be necessary to assist Zevran with the investigation, and felt Elizabeth could also be an asset in their probe.

Zevran took Leliana and Elizabeth aside. "Do you know of anyone in this room who was acting strangely? Or perhaps there is someone who doesn't belong here?"

Elizabeth motioned toward Habren. "Lady Habren has made no attempt to hide her dislike for Delia. Her two so-called friends," she motioned toward Ophelia and Imogen, "tripped and spilled their food and drink on Bann Alfstanna and her lady in waiting a few minutes before Delia started to feel her pain." She raised an eyebrow at Zevran. "What do you intend to do?"

The assassin smiled. "I shall trick the girl into giving herself up, of course."

Zevran walked to the front of the room and raised his hands to gather the women's attention. "My ladies, a terrible crime has been committed. You see, the queen has been poisoned." The women gasped, and several of the older ladies suddenly needed to sit from the shock. "There is one problem you must be made aware of. You see," he paused for effect, as he began to pace in front of them, a look of concern on his face, "as of right now, I do not know who it was who administered the poison to my dear friend. However, the person who performed the deed is in far more danger than the queen herself." He waited a moment, allowing his words to take hold in their minds before he continued. "The king himself has acknowledged me as an expert on poisons, and I would dare to say that my experience surpasses anyone in Ferelden. The poison used against our queen can very well kill her, without the antidote I provided the mage. It is far worse for this poison to travel through the skin than through the stomach. If I do not provide the antidote to the person who placed the toxin in the tea, they will inevitably suffer a horrible fate."

Zevran stopped pacing and looked directly at the group in front of him. He watched Habren out of the corner of his eye. "Should the tiniest amount of the substance touch the skin, it will first cause pustules to form. Slowly, the skin will peel away from the muscles underneath. I assure you, the pain is intense." Habren's eyes started to open wider. "The next thing that happens is the muscles begin to turn to blackened stone. Each time there is any movement of the area, the healthy flesh begins to slowly tear away." Habren started to giggle. Zevran ignored her and continued. "The blackness begins to spread, like a spider web, and then…"

Habren burst into full laughter. Zevran looked at her, along with most of the women in the room.

"Oh, do go on, ser _elf_. You tell a good tale, for someone who is supposed to be so knowledgeable about poisons. It is too bad you know nothing of the proper symptoms."

Zevran raised his eyebrow. "And you do, my lady?"

Habren looked triumphant. "It is a simple bloodroot poison, imported from Orlais. It cannot do anything to the skin. It must be absorbed through the stomach."

Zevran nodded to the guards. Two of them strode to Habren and grabbed her arms.

"Let me go, you fiends!" she screamed at the guards. "You have no right to touch me. My father will…"

"Your father will visit you in prison, _my lady._ You are under arrest."

Her jaw dropped. "On what charge?"

Zevran deftly removed the vial from her pocket as everyone in the room watched. "The charges begin with the attempted murders of the Queen of Ferelden and the unborn prince. That may change to murder charges, if we are unable to save either of them. I am certain that we shall find multiple other charges before we are finished with you." He nodded to the guards. "Take her to the dungeon."

The guards dragged her away; her screams of protest ignored. Zevran looked at the remaining women in the room. "Now that we have the perpetrator, I must ask anyone who can add any information about what Lady Habren has done to come forward."

Imogen broke down in tears. "She forced us… she was going to kill our mabari!" she cried.

Ophelia pulled her sister into a tight hug. "Habren bought the poison at the market, from that man with the bear cub. She has been 'testing' it on mabari puppies for months, watching how the poor things would slowly die. Habren stole a key to our father's estate and threatened to kill our pet… or worse."

Zevran walked to them and placed his hands on their shoulders, trying to comfort the two. "If you are willing to testify to that, I promise I shall personally speak on your behalf for leniency. I am afraid, my dear ladies, that you have placed yourselves in a terrible predicament. You have committed treason, and you must face the law." Zevran motioned to the guards, and two stepped over to his side. "Please take these two ladies and place them in confinement, under guard." Before the guards took them away, Zevran looked at them sadly. "I am sorry that I must do this duty, however, I will inform your father what has happened."

The guardsmen escorted the young women out of the room as they tearfully held each other. Zevran spoke to yet another member of the guard. He ordered him to get written notifications from Seamus regarding the arrests of the three women and ask Ser Trent for three other men to travel with him. The guardsmen were to deliver the first letter to Bann Garman, then continue to Arl Bryland's estate. There, they were to first deliver the letter and then search for the stolen key to Bann Garman's estate.

Once he was satisfied that the details were taken care of properly, he gently asked the nobles to return to their homes. As the ladies departed from the palace, Zevran hurried up to the royal quarters. He was followed closely by Leliana and Elizabeth. When they approached the doorway, they found that Anna was in the hallway.

"Kinnon wouldn't allow me to stay. He was too nervous…" Anna looked at the others sadly. "Her screams stopped minutes ago. I have no idea what is happening."

Elizabeth looked alarmed. "Has anyone told the king?"

Anna shrugged. "I don't think the guards thought of it."

Leliana took in a deep breath. "I will find Alistair. I believe he and Teagan had a trade meeting with a representative from Cumberland. Seamus must know where they are." She hurried off to find the head of staff.

Elizabeth turned her attention to Anna. "You should find Dairren and then Trent. They also need to be informed."

Anna nodded before she started off to the library. How could she tell Dairren that his sister was gravely ill? Somehow she needed to find the words before she found him.

A knock on the chamber door startled the group that was working on the new trade agreement. Alistair had given the staff strict orders not to disturb him. He opened the door angrily.

"What is it? I thought I told you not to disturb…"

Seamus bowed. "Yes, your Majesty, you did. However, there is a matter of grave importance."

Alistair frowned. "Well, spit it out, man. I don't have time for this today."

"It is the queen, sire. She was poisoned. I'm sorry to interrupt, but…"

The king didn't hear the rest of what Seamus said, as he was already rushing down the long hallway. His personal guards tried in vain to catch up, unable to match his speed while wearing their heavy armor. Seamus bowed his head in sadness, before entering the chamber to explain why the king had been called away from the important negotiations.

Anna opened the door to the library. Dairren was sitting in his regular place, continuing to write without even looking up.

"Dairren? I… we need to talk." She took a seat next to him. After he set his pen down, Anna put her hand on top of his. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to be blunt. It's… Delia. She's been poisoned."

"What?" His mouth hung open as he tried to make sense of what she just said. "How?"

Anna briefly explained what happened during the tea. "We need to find Trent, and then you need to be near your sister."

He looked at her sadly. "Would… would you stay with me? I don't know what to do…"

Anna tried to smile to comfort him. "Of course, Dairren. There is no other place I would rather be."

They stood up from the table and walked quickly to the hallway. As they headed to the guard outpost, Dairren reached out and grabbed Anna's hand. She gave his hand a squeeze, and then they hurried off.

Wynne and Fiona were happily shopping at the Wonders of Thedas, when two members of the Royal Guard burst in. The two men strode over to the mages purposefully, earning frowns from the two as they were disturbed. The frowns turned to looks of shock as the one man spoke.

"I beg your pardon, but the queen requires your immediate assistance," he said gravely.

Wynne looked at him, as a teacher would look at an unruly student. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm afraid the queen has been poisoned."

Fiona gasped, and the two mages immediately handed the items they had selected to the tranquil mage who was assisting them. They rushed out the door and started toward the palace.

Kinnon was struggling. He had used every bit of his magic at his disposal. The lyrium he drank to maintain his mana, left his stomach rolling with waves of nausea. Regardless of how hard he worked, the queen had still lapsed into a coma. He worked feverishly to keep her alive, as well as to force the antidote into her stomach at the prescribed times. Hopefully, Wynne and Fiona would return soon.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: And Baby Makes Three

Alistair felt helpless. He paced in front of the fireplace in the royal sitting room, wishing he could be with his wife. Wynne and Fiona were in the bedroom with her, having relieved an exhausted Kinnon. Both mages had specifically asked that he stay out of the room; he would only be in the way. He scarcely noticed the people who were waiting with him. Leliana and Zevran stood near the window, talking quietly. Dairren sat on Delia's favorite chair. Anna sat on an ottoman next to him, her hand lying on top of his, trying to lend comfort. Elizabeth sat in the corner, waiting for anyone to ask her assistance. Trent stood at one end of the fireplace with Griffon at his side, watching as his son in law paced back and forth.

There had been no word from the mages for several hours. Finally, the sound of a baby's cry broke the stillness. Alistair stopped pacing and faced the door to his bedroom, waiting expectantly. A few moments later, Fiona walked out of the room with a sad smile. She carried a bundle in her arms that seemed to writhe.

"Alistair, come meet your son," she said gently. "We needed to deliver him early, because of the poison; but he is healthy and strong."

Alistair walked slowly to the mage's side and looked at his newborn son. The baby was beautiful; perfect in every way. His hair was golden, and his pudgy arms flailed at the air as he cried.

"Would you like to hold him?" Fiona asked Alistair.

"I'm afraid I'll break him. He's so… small."

Fiona smiled at her son. "Yes, Alistair, he's small, but he's strong. And babies aren't quite as fragile as you'd think. Let me show you how to hold him."

As Alistair held out his hands, Fiona gently placed the baby into his arms. She showed her son, the king, how to fold his arms to cradle his child, and how to properly support the baby's head and neck. Alistair looked at his son and smiled sadly.

"Duncan… I'm so glad you're safe." He looked up at Fiona's face. "Please, tell me the truth – how is Delia? Will she…"

Fiona placed her hand on his shoulder. "She's strong. Right now she is still in the coma, but we have every reason to believe she will be fine. You must have faith, Alistair."

Alistair walked over to his chair and sat slowly, as he looked at his son's face. "I should be sharing this moment with her… we should be smiling and laughing and she should be happy..." A sob escaped before he tried to regain control of his emotions. Raising his head, he looked around the room at his friends. "Would any of you like to see him?"

As Fiona returned to the bedroom, the others crowded around Alistair to get their first look of the child. There was a soft knock on the hall door. Elizabeth walked over and answered it, finding Teagan standing there solemnly. She motioned him in, and the chancellor quickly entered.

"How is she? Is everything alright?" Teagan asked. His eyes found the king, and his countenance softened. "This must be Duncan? Welcome to the world, little prince."

Alistair looked at Teagan, his eyes full of tears. "Delia is in a coma. Wynne and Fiona had to deliver Duncan early. This is… almost too much to bear."

Trent moved to Alistair's side and patted his back. "Have strength, Alistair. We're all here for you… for all three of you."

Wynne entered the sitting room, closing the door behind her. Alistair looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to speak. She smiled at him, walked to his side and tousled his hair.

"Heeeeey, you know I hate having my hair mussed," he complained.

"Yes, but you are just so cute sitting there with Duncan. I couldn't help myself."

Zevran carried a chair over and placed it next to Alistair for Wynne. After she thanked the elf, she sat and looked at Alistair.

"Delia will be fine. That being said, we don't know how long she'll remain in the coma. Unfortunately, it won't be safe for Duncan to suckle from Delia because of any remaining poison in her system, so he will need a wet nurse. Zevran, didn't you interview women for the nanny position?"

"Yes, but none of them were wet nurses. Perhaps they would know someone, no?" He turned to Leliana and Elizabeth. "My friends, we must hurry. Follow me." The three rogues quickly left the room.

Alistair looked sadly at Wynne. "May I see her?"

"Of course, Alistair. Just don't stay for very long. She needs to recuperate."

He slowly stood from the chair and held Duncan out to Dairren. "Would you hold him for me? I think he needs his Uncle Dairren."

Dairren nodded and took the baby from Alistair. Looking at his nephew, he could only think about what his sister was missing. It was incomprehensible that there were people in Ferelden who seemed to hate his family so much that they could cause such pain… first their father, then Howe, now Habren. Dairren leaned down to his nephew and whispered in his ear, "I promise you, Duncan, that I will always do my very best to help protect you from all the hatred and pain in this world."

Alistair quietly stepped inside the bedroom. Delia lay on the bed. She looked as if she was sleeping peacefully. As he walked to her side, Fiona left the room to give him some privacy.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. Brushing a stray hair from her face, he gently kissed her.

"Delia, my love, wake up. Our son needs you. I… I need you."

Alistair sat next to her, crying, until Wynne and Fiona returned. The three mages would take turns watching the queen. They would force feed her, and use their magic to give her as much strength as they could. Until Delia woke, that was all they could do.

A week had passed since Delia lapsed into her coma. Zevran hired a wet nurse. She was a cousin of Seamus', named Gael. Her own son, Kraig, was born a month to the day before Duncan, and she was very happy to be able to help the royal family. Her husband died when the darkspawn invaded Denerim, and working for the palace as nanny and wet nurse to the prince was a perfect job. Seamus was happy because he could keep an eye on her as well. He felt responsible for both her and her son's welfare because he was their only surviving relative.

Gael proved to be a wonderful wet nurse. She instinctively knew that Duncan would need to be with his mother; she made a point to have the baby nap tucked against Delia's side whenever possible. Alistair learned a great deal from her as well. Gael was a task master when it came to the king caring for his own son. He learned how to bathe and diaper his son, as well as the proper way to swaddle him.

Alistair had tried to spend as much time with his son and wife as he possibly could. Palace business still needed to be attended to, but he limited his participation to only the things that absolutely needed his attention. Teagan filled in for him, holding the daily court in his stead and reporting the verdicts directly to the king.

Despite everything the mages were doing for Delia, Alistair felt she was slipping away. She was losing weight and her face was pale. His friends tried to keep his spirits up, but it was getting more difficult with every moment. As he walked into the bedroom to pay her yet another visit, he asked Kinnon to give him time alone with his wife. The mage left the room, and Alistair lay on the bed, placing his arm around his wife. The tears came easily. The king cried himself to sleep while he clung to his wife, the exhaustion of his suffering finally catching up to him.

Several hours later, he opened his eyes slowly. He found himself looking into the smiling face of the woman he loved.

Delia chuckled. "You've finally decided to wake! I didn't want to disturb you; your face looked so stressed. Were your negotiations with Teagan that dreadful?"

Alistair sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Am I dreaming? This can't be real…"

"Of course this is real. Why wouldn't it be?" Delia placed her hand on his cheek. "Are you feeling alright, my love? I wonder if you've caught whatever illness I have. I feel so weak…"

"You've been in a coma, Delia. You were poisoned at your tea." He kissed her softly. "I can't believe you're awake. I should get Wynne."

As he started to get up, Delia reached for his arm. "No, wait. What happened? How was I poisoned?" Her face suddenly paled in fright and her hand shot to her abdomen. "What happened to…"

Alistair kissed her cheek. "Duncan is fine. Wynne and Fiona delivered him safely. He's strong and has been visiting you regularly. I'll go and get him from Gael."

She looked at him questioningly. "Gael?"

"She's Seamus' cousin, and our new wet nurse and nanny. I must say, she's been wonderful with Duncan. She has a son of her own who is only a month old. I'll be right back. Don't move a muscle," he added, his lopsided grin having returned.

Alistair stepped out of the room and sent a guard to get Wynne and Fiona. Then he walked to the nursery and knocked quietly. Gael came to the door and smiled broadly when she heard Delia was awake. Quickly she gathered the sleeping Duncan in her arms and brought him to his father.

Alistair walked back to his wife. As he got closer to the bed, his face beamed with the lopsided smile that Delia adored.

"Duncan, this is your gorgeous mother. See – I told you she has the prettiest eyes in Ferelden. Did I lie?" Alistair moved the baby closer to his ear, pretending to listen to something he said. "I didn't tell you how beautiful her smile is? How silly of me, I am derelict in my duties."

Delia laughed as Alistair handed their son to her. "He's perfect. Oh, Alistair, he looks just like you."

"Well, I suppose if he is a true Theirin, there must be some sort of resemblance. Everyone always says how much both Cailan and I looked like Maric. I wonder if it's a trait that goes all the way back to Calenhad?"

Duncan started to stir just as they heard a soft knock at the door. Alistair asked them to enter, and Wynne walked through the doorway. She smiled at the sight of the happy family in front of her. When she noticed Delia unlacing the front of her gown, Wynne frowned and moved quickly to stop her.

"Delia, I'm afraid you can't nurse Duncan."

"Why not? I'm his mother – if he's hungry I'll nurse him."

Wynne looked at her sadly. "I know you want to; it's a natural part of being a mother, after all, but you can't. There was a great deal of poison in your system, and it would have been in your milk. We used herbs to stop you from lactating. I'm sorry, my dear."

Delia looked at her sadly. "So, whoever did this not only put both my life and my son's life at risk, but has destroyed my chances at bonding normally with my son?"

Wynne sat next to her. "You may not be able to nurse Duncan, but you can still bond with him. You need to give him attention. He has been sleeping next to you since he was born; he just cannot nurse from you."

Duncan decided to start crying at that moment. Alistair looked at Delia sadly. "That's his 'I'm hungry' cry. Let me take him to Gael. She'll bring him back as soon as he's finished." He reached out and picked up Duncan, snuggling the baby close to his chest. "I'll be right back."

As he stepped out, Wynne reached her hands over Delia's body, feeling with her magic to make certain the queen was healing properly. She cast another rejuvenation spell to help her friend have more energy.

Delia looked at Wynne and sighed before she asked, "Will I be able to have more children? Or has the poison also destroyed that possibility?"

Wynne nodded. "There is no physical reason why you can't have more. I suppose that will be between you, Alistair and the Maker. However, you shouldn't try for several months. Your body needs to recover, not only from the poison, but from childbirth itself."

Alistair returned to the room without Duncan and sat next to Delia. He looked at Wynne before he asked, "Well, what do you think? How is she?"

Wynne smiled warmly at Alistair. "She's much better. Now, I'm going to arrange for some food for you, Delia. There are also a few people who would love to visit, if you are feeling up to seeing them."

Delia nodded. "Please tell them all I'm fine. I would love to see them, but first I'd like to clean up a bit."

"Alright then. Food first, for both of you. I'll ask the servants to draw a bath after you have had a chance to eat. Alistair, you must be sure to make Delia eat slowly."

He smiled mischievously. "Yes ma'am. I will follow your orders to the letter."

Wynne narrowed her eyes and shook her finger at him teasingly. "Now, don't you sass me, young man. You may be the king, but in this situation, I outrank you."

Wynne left the room, and, true to her word, a servant arrived soon after with a platter of food. Delia was served a simple chicken soup, while Alistair was served the heartier stew the cook made for everyone else's dinner. There was a loaf of fresh bread and fresh pressed cider as well. Alistair poured a cup of cider for Delia, who sipped it eagerly. She dutifully ate most of her soup while Alistair seemed to inhale his stew. He hadn't eaten well since Delia had taken ill, and suddenly his appetite made him think back on his warden days.

When Delia was ready, Alistair helped her walk to the bath. She was still weak, so even the short walk took most of her energy. He assisted her as she sat in the tub, and stayed at her side, washing her hair. When the water started to cool, he helped her out of the tub. Once she dressed in a comfortable pair of breeches and a soft tunic, Alistair slowly brushed her hair.

The two finally settled into their sitting room. A knock on the door proved to be Fiona and Trent. As Fiona cast a rejuvenation spell on Delia, Trent sat next to his daughter.

"How are you feeling, Delia? I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear you were finally awake," Trent said to her.

"Weak, but otherwise I feel fine," she answered. Delia looked at Alistair. "Love, would you get Duncan?"

"Of course." Alistair leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before he walked to the nursery. He came back empty handed, his cheeks bright red. "Gael was just feeding him. She'll bring him to us as soon as he's finished."

Delia swallowed her anger. It was obvious that Gael must have left herself exposed for Alistair to have been so embarrassed. It was bad enough that Delia couldn't nurse her own child, but for this woman to bare her chest in front of her husband was intolerable. Delia decided she would have to put a stop to it, and was thinking of the venomous things she would say when Gael walked into the room.

The woman was not what Delia expected. She was short and stocky, with a broad smile and a motherly disposition. She brought Duncan directly to Delia and handed him to her gently.

"My lady, I am so glad to finally meet you in person, so to speak. Seamus has always spoken so highly of you and the king, and I can't tell you how much this position means to me and my son. Please let me know whatever I can do to make your life easier. And you," she turned to the king, "when you enter the nursery, you must do so quietly! Maker knows, it took me forever to get Kraig to sleep, and poor Duncan was being such an angel as he waited his turn. I won't have you creating a ruckus while the babies are napping!"

Alistair blushed again and looked at his wife for help. "Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am. I promise I'll be quieter in the future."

"Well, you had best be, or I'll kick you out on your sorry bum, I will!" She started to walk to the door, but turned to Delia once again. "If you need anything, my lady, please ask. I'll be in the nursery, if you need me." Gael left the room, and, once the door was shut, Delia started to laugh.

"Oh, Alistair, your face is precious! That was definitely _not_ what I expected."

The king frowned. "It's not my fault, not really anyway. She had a chair in back of the door. How could I have known it was there? I opened the door and it banged against the chair," he said with a whine.

Delia chuckled and turned her attention to Duncan. He was asleep, now that his little tummy was full. His face looked so content and happy that Delia couldn't help but smile. Griffon walked over and sniffed the baby and looked up at Delia with what could only be described as a doggy grin.

Alistair looked at the people surrounding his wife and infant son. Here he was, with a full-fledged family for the first time in his life. Life couldn't possibly be any better than this. Silently, he said a prayer of thanks to the Maker before he bent over and kissed his wife. He was, indeed, a very lucky man.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Sorry for the delay. It's been a combination of writer's block, my college aged kids being home for spring break, and I must admit DA2! I'll try to post more timely!_**

Chapter 14: Trouble

Gerod leaned against a boulder, looking at the walls of Jader in the distance. It wouldn't be long before he would be able to start putting his plans in motion. Hopefully, he would find the men he needed at the inn. Calling to Elyon, he started to walk the final distance to the city.

Finally, the two wardens entered Jader's city gates. Gerod immediately headed toward the Bucket of Blood Inn, one of the most notorious places in the city. Located near the docks, it was a haven for criminals and prostitutes. There was one man, in particular, that Gerod hoped he would find. Arnal was quite a handsome man, his looks belying his cruel nature. Gerod had wanted him to join his wardens, but Arnal refused to become what he considered to be part of the establishment. Instead, he was an institution unto himself; he took whatever he wanted, and his life was filled with whatever excess he desired.

The two wardens reached the inn and walked inside. Gerod looked around and grinned. The man he was looking for was sitting in the corner, a bottle of whisky on the table and a pretty wench on his lap. Arnal caught his eye and motioned for the two to join him. When they reached his table, he pushed the woman off his lap, telling her to join him later. He then smiled at the wardens, giving each a hearty handshake.

"Gerod, my good friend, how long has it been? What brings the mighty Grey Warden to this humble inn?" Arnal scrutinized the senior warden, searching for anything that would give away his purpose.

"I've come looking for you, actually," he replied as he sat at the table.

A waitress brought two more glasses and Arnal poured whisky for the men.

"I can't imagine you would have need of my… talents. What is it you need me for?"

Gerod grinned at the criminal. "It is exactly your talents that I need. I have a rather… personal score to settle. You see, the new King of Ferelden is a Grey Warden, or at least he claims to be. I attempted to do what any man of my position would do – indoctrinate the fledgling Ferelden wardens into the greater flock of Orlesians. Unfortunately, the king did not… appreciate my tactics, and sent word of his disapproval to Weisshaupt. Elyon and I were replaced in Orlais, and commanded to see the First Warden. We are here instead, by the grace of the Maker, due to an… unfortunate incident on the ship."

Arnal raised his eyebrow. "An unfortunate incident?"

Elyon chuckled. "The ship had an explosion. We were… fortunate enough to be at the right place at the right time and escaped unharmed."

Arnal stroked his short beard. "I see… Gerod, you never cease to amaze me with the incredible… luck you seem to possess."

Gerod laughed. "Too true, my friend, too true!"

"What does your story have to do with me? Get to the point. I have other things I wish to occupy my time with," he grumbled, as his eyes shifted to the barmaid who had been on his lap.

"I need your assistance in my quest for vengeance. It is because of the pretend warden that I have lost my position in Orlais. There must be a way to destroy him, just as he has destroyed me. If I am able to regain my power, I would consider it a bonus."

Arnal laughed. "So, you intend to start a war on Ferelden? And where do you intend to get your army? I can find some men for you, but not enough for your war."

Gerod looked into Arnal's eyes with a fury the man had never seen before. "I am not stupid. No, I intend to destroy the king by taking away what is most important to him – his wife."

"You wish to kidnap the Queen of Ferelden?" Arnal sat back in his chair. "This could be an interesting diversion… what is your plan?"

"We need to infiltrate the palace and establish a base of operations closer to Denerim. I'm certain there will come a time when the queen will let her guard down, and then we strike. Right now we need to hire our forces."

Arnal thought for a moment before speaking again. "I know some good men, but they will be costly. I trust you brought sufficient funds?"

Gerod nodded. "Of course, my friend. You and I have worked together often enough that I know your needs, as well as those who work with you."

"And how do you intend to infiltrate the palace? It will not be easy for you to accomplish that in any timely manner."

Gerod's eyes danced. "Ah, but my friend, it is nearly a fait accompli! I must only send a messenger to my man in Ferelden and then I shall have eyes and ears inside the palace. You do not think I left that flea ridden country before I made arrangements, do you?"

As Gerod erupted in laughter, Arnal joined him, the two men catching the attention of other clients of the inn. There weren't many people that would intimidate the criminals that frequented the establishment, but these two men cackled like witches and it made everyone within earshot flinch. Elyon looked at the floor. He knew that whatever his commander had planned would be brutal, and he wished there were a way that he could escape.

XXXXX

Sebastian walked up to the palace gates wearing his best clothes. He needed to make a good impression. Today he had his interview with Zevran and Jacob, the gardener. This day was surely the most important day of his life, and he needed to be at his very best.

He approached the guard and presented the letter from Zevran that gave him permission to enter the gates. The guard motioned for a messenger and sent him for Zevran. Sebastian waited patiently with the guard until the elf arrived.

"Ah, Sebastian. It is good to see you again." Zevran took the man's arm in a warrior's handshake and motioned for him to follow. "Jacob is waiting for us in the garden. He tells me that the autumn is a busy time for gardeners, and he is most interested in meeting you."

Sebastian followed behind Zevran a respectful two paces. "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this opportunity."

Zevran suddenly turned around and appraised the man. Sebastian certainly didn't look like an assassin. He was out of shape and seemed too old, yet there was something about him that put Zevran's teeth on edge.

"Let me say this once, Sebastian, I take my position here at the palace very seriously. I know you are from Antiva, and I have yet to know an Antivan who could earn my trust. Elizabeth may believe in you, but I have no reason to. My eyes will be upon you constantly. Should you make the slightest movement that displeases me you shall feel my wrath."

Sebastian looked stunned. "I assure you, Zevran, I simply wish a better position than barkeep at the Bard. You have nothing to fear from me." His mind wanted to add, "_Elizabeth is Antivan as well; why would you trust her_?" but he thought better of it.

Zevran frowned. "We shall see, won't we? Follow me."

He led Sebastian to the gardener's toolshed. Jacob was sitting on a barrel, sharpening his pruning tools. There was something about the toolshed that was comforting, even though most of the tools hung so carefully on the walls could kill a man easily. There was an earthy smell, a smell of life that made Sebastian smile at its familiarity.

Jacob was friendly, yet thorough in his questioning. He was intent on only hiring a man who truly understood what needed to be done with the plantings, rather than someone who either knew nothing or wanted to change everything to suit their own desires. He took Sebastian out into the gardens, asking him to identify the plants and explain their care. For the most part, Sebastian was familiar with the vegetation, but when it came to plants that were found only in Ferelden he faltered. Jacob was impressed with his honesty and didn't fault him. After all, it was obvious by his accent that he wasn't a native Fereldan.

After they completed their tour of the garden, Jacob offered Sebastian a handshake. "I would be happy to have you as my assistant, Sebastian. I'm sure you'll learn the native plants soon enough. When can you start?"

Sebastian smiled. "I can start right away, Jacob. Will there be a place where I can stay here or should I keep a room at the inn?"

"There's room enough in the gardener's quarters, if you're willing to share. Saves your gold, and I wouldn't mind the company."

"Alright then, if it's approved by Master Arainai, I will return to the inn, collect my things, and return before dark." He looked at Zevran for approval.

The elf nodded. "Remember what I said, Sebastian." He looked at Jacob. "I will check in on you later. Thank you, Master Gardener."

Zevran escorted Sebastian back to the gate, giving the guard instructions to allow him to return before dark. Sebastian hurried back to the Bawdy Bard to give his notice and collect the few items he still owned. Hopefully, this opportunity would help him have peace in his life.

Zevran went back to his quarters. He wished Delia were well enough to have met Sebastian before he gave the man a job at the palace. There was something about the man that still didn't sit well with the former crow, something he wasn't divulging. Did he have a connection to the Crows? It was all too convenient that Sebastian was on Elizabeth's ship, ready to pay for her passage to Ferelden. He decided to speak to Leliana. The bard would be able to help keep an eye on the new employee.

XXXXX

Leliana sat in the sitting room, watching Aeden read yet another book on Amaranthine history he borrowed from the library. She sighed, realizing the man could be quite boring at times. He was so exciting during the Blight, as he took control of the group and formulated their every strategy. She felt as though he barely noticed her, and she was running out of time. It wouldn't be long before Aeden would leave Denerim for Vigil's Keep. Somehow she needed to demand his attention, once and for all!

She picked up her lute and tuned the strings quietly. Her fingers began to pluck the notes of a Nevarran folk song that was a particular favorite of hers. As she concentrated on her music, she didn't realize Aeden had closed his book and his eyes as he listened. When she strummed the final chord, Aeden opened his eyes and looked at her.

"That was… simply beautiful. It sounded so sad – what was it?" he asked quietly.

Leliana smiled warmly. "It is an old Nevarran folk song. The story tells of a young woman who yearns for a man, but his attentions are always given to another."

"Would you sing it for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, Aeden." She began the music again, this time leaving the melody to her voice with the lute accompanying her.

He watched her as she performed, her voice filling the room with the sorrowful timbre. By the time she finished, the music moved him so much his eyes filled with tears.

"That song reminds me of a lullaby my Nan used to sing to me. There was something about the way the notes fit together; I don't know quite how to explain it."

Leliana smiled and nodded. "I wonder if this is the song you are speaking of."

She began to sing again, this time the song was gentler, but the tonality was similar to the first. Aeden smiled and nodded. As she finished, she looked at his face. A complex mixture of emotions showed; happiness, sadness, longing… every memory seemed to show through his expressions.

"Are you alright, Aeden?" she asked.

"Yes," he managed to croak through his constricted throat. "I never learned the words, and never thought I would hear it again." He looked at the floor, his face showing all his pent up sadness. "I never even had a chance to say goodbye to her. You know, the last time I spoke to her I teased her about hating Dusty. He found some rats in the larder, and she blamed him. I was acting like a brat, and she told me off. I wish I had been kinder to her."

Leliana set her lute on the floor and walked over to him. She stood behind him and hugged him from above and behind. Kissing him gently on the cheek, she whispered softly in his ear, "It is not your fault, Aeden. You couldn't have known it would be your last time to see her. I'm certain she knew how much you cared about her, and she wouldn't have wanted you to act any way other than your normal self."

He took her hand and gently pulled her around the chair and onto his lap. As he held her close, he finally allowed himself to cry for all he had lost. Leliana knew instinctively that he needed this, and said nothing. Instead, she stroked his hair and hugged him back. Finally the tears stopped, but Aeden didn't release her. Instead, he pulled her even closer until he gently pushed her away and stood up with a sigh.

"Aeden, did I do something wrong?" she asked gently.

"No, Leli, you seem to do everything so _right_. It's just… I wish… oh, I'm making such a fool of myself." Aeden walked to the window and placed his hands on the sill, looking out into the courtyard below. "I'm going to miss you too, you know. When I go to Vigil's Keep, I mean. Your presence has always been such a comfort to me. You are a good friend."

Leliana frowned. "Only a friend? Is that all I am to you?"

Aeden turned around and saw the hurt in her eyes. "I haven't dared to hope for anything more. You deserve so much better than this, than _me_."

"How dare you malign yourself that way? You are a good man, Aeden Cousland. Any woman should be proud to be in your company."

"Leliana, you don't understand. You deserve a man who can put _you_ first, not the Grey Wardens. Someone who can give you a family, a home, a life…"

Leliana crossed the room and stood in front of him, her finger across his lips to silence him. "Stop right there. I've not had a proper home since I was a young girl. Our friends have given me the family I never had, and being with you has given me a purpose. For the first time in my life I have truly lived! Do you really wish to no longer have me in your life or are you simply trying to be gallant?"

Aeden reached out and pulled her close. "You know I want you in my life, but I have to leave for the Keep soon. You can't come with me."

She batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. "Maybe not now, but that doesn't mean that once you have things under control you couldn't send for me. I'm sure that Delia and Alistair wouldn't mind my staying on here."

"Perhaps I could visit you here? Would you mind if I… came around?" His eyes searched hers for answers as he tried to organize his own feelings.

"Why Aeden Cousland, are you asking if you could court me?" She smiled at him, earning a shy smile and a blush from the warden.

"And if I am? Would that be horrible?"

"Not horrible, not in the least. I think I would like that, to be courted by someone as handsome as you."

Aeden smiled broadly. "Good to know," he said to her as he pulled her closer and kissed her.

At that moment, Delia happened to walk past the open door. As she glanced into the room, she saw Aeden kiss Leliana. She smiled as she looked to the floor and continued toward her rooms. _"Well, it's about time, Aeden!"_ she thought to herself, as she walked down the hallway.


	15. Chapter 15

**_Zeeji emerges from her hiding place behind the bushes with her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, all of my readers. It shouldn't have taken nearly this long to post a new chapter, but real life threw me a few curve balls and then my muse decided to go on vacation. She's at least phoning home now, so hopefully I'll be able to post somewhat regularly again. I also seem to be beta-less again. This chapter isn't my best, I know, but it sets some things in motion. I hope you enjoy it!"_**

Chapter 15: Preparations

Much had happened in the month since Duncan was born. Oghren left his position with the Palace Guard to search for a woman named Felsi, who he fell in love with after his wife abandoned him for the Deep Roads. Trent was left with a huge hole to fill in his command structure. He needed a new captain, but it had to be a man they felt was trustworthy to lead the royals' personal guard.

There was one man who had seniority and made it obvious that he felt he deserved the position. Bertram had been with the Royal Guardsmen for many years. He never had displayed a problem with the nobles, but Trent was concerned with the man's behavior toward the regular citizens. When Bertram was assigned duty at the gate, there often was some sort of disturbance. A pattern was emerging that showed Bertram was too unstable to assume command.

Instead, Trent turned to another man, Perth, who had joined the guard after the Blight, but had proven to be trustworthy and capable. He came to the guard after serving Arl Eamon for many years as one of his knights, and had been helpful to the wardens during the Blight. The men seemed to like him as well. Whenever Perth had been given charge over a group, their mission had been successful. He treated everyone respectfully as well, which helped win over the support of the citizens. Trent felt comfortable placing the man in charge of the royal family's official regiment.

Bertram, of course, didn't take the news well. He was angry to be passed over for promotion and his attitude suffered. Trent was forced to remove him from any assignments where he would have to work with the public, so he ended up becoming second in command of the Guard's Armory. It was a good position for Bertram; one that gave him responsibility without having to deal with the public.

Although Delia and Alistair missed their friend, Oghren, Ser Perth took over the position seamlessly. He was an easygoing sort, and he enjoyed having the occasional opportunity to play with little Duncan. He had a certain knack at simply being right there whenever he was needed; staying out of the way, yet always ready.

The daily routine started to settle into place. Gael was strict with Duncan's schedule, but it seemed to work for him because he thrived and grew quickly. Alistair arranged his daily schedule so he could spend as much time as possible with his wife and son. It was obvious to everyone in the palace how much he loved being a family man. Delia enjoyed watching her husband as he played with the baby. He was such a natural father that it was amazing to see, and Duncan always smiled and giggled when he saw his father coming.

Of course, schedules can't always be kept every day, and it was time to have Duncan's Naming Day celebration before they knew it. The month had flown past, but the king and queen couldn't postpone the ceremony any longer for several reasons. The Chantry was pushing the royals to follow religious protocols, especially given that they had several mages at the palace against the wishes of the Revered Mother. What was of greater importance to Alistair and Delia, however, was that they wanted Aeden to be one of Duncan's sponsors, and he needed to leave for Vigil's Keep soon.

Leliana was asked to be Duncan's second sponsor, and she took it upon herself to plan the ceremony and celebration in an attempt to help the new parents. The bard's time as an initiate in the Chantry gave her an insight that was very helpful. The Reverend Mother appreciated Leliana's attention to detail as well as her devotion to making certain the ceremony was handled in the most respectful manner.

Elizabeth was asked to assist Leliana in handling the celebration after the ceremony. Delia and Alistair wanted to keep the affair as small as possible, but they knew it was protocol to invite certain people whether they wanted them there or not. Most of the nobles of the Landsmeet were in their own banns overseeing the harvest. That helped to limit the number of nobles needing to be invited to the dignitaries of Denerim.

Of course, there were particular people the royals wanted to invite. It was important for Fergus Cousland to attend, not only because his brother would be a sponsor, but because he had proven to be a good friend. Alistair wrote to him often, not only to check on progress in Highever, but to ask the teyrn's opinions concerning the politics of Ferelden. Fergus was very perceptive and a great advisor.

There were three others whose invitations were very important as far as Delia and Alistair were concerned. When they traveled to Orzammar during the Blight, the group had stayed at the Warden House, just outside the city gates. The house was managed by a dwarven family; Gorshep, his wife, Deirdre, and their son, Jessop. The dwarven couple had been instrumental in arranging Delia and Alistair's wedding. In the months since the archdemon was defeated, they had been very helpful to Aeden by sending the new Warden Commander books and documents from their library to help him better understand warden procedures.

Two people in particular would be sorely missed: Chloe and Vernon, a couple who had befriended Delia when she returned to Ferelden from Antiva. Their store was located in Redcliffe, and the last time Delia had seen them was before the final march on Denerim during the Blight. It saddened Delia when they learned that no one in Redcliffe knew what had become of the two after the archdemon was defeated.

Delia and Alistair also wished to invite their Dalish elf friends: Keeper Lanaya; Varathorn, the master craftsman; and Sarel, the storyteller. Since the clan moved almost constantly, it was always difficult to locate them. To find them with such short notice would be nearly impossible, however, luck happened to be on the royals' side, and the Dalish arrived at the palace the day before the celebration.

The three elves traveled with five hunters. As they walked through Denerim, the citizens of the city watched them pass in awe. After the Dalish helped fight the final battle with the archdemon, the residents of the city had a newfound respect for the clans. Lanaya led her group through the streets to the gates of the palace. When they arrived, a young guardsman named Derrick greeted them. He was flustered by their appearance, which surprised the keeper.

"You seem nervous, child. Be assured, we mean you no harm. We have come to visit with King Alistair and Queen Delia." Lanaya smiled, trying to relieve the man's fears.

Derrick quickly shook his head, blushing. "No, Keeper, I simply… it's just… oh, let me try again. You see, my family lived near the Alienage before the Blight. During the final battle, it was your people who saved my family from the darkspawn advance. I joined the guard because I was inspired by the skill and compassion of the Dalish."

Lanaya gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "It is good to know we have been appreciated for our part in the great battle. May your Maker watch over and protect you, even as you protect our good friends, the king and queen."

"Th… thank you, Keeper. Excuse me for one moment, so I can arrange a proper escort through the palace for you." He quickly stepped over to the guardhouse, returning with Ser Trent.

"My friends! How wonderful it is to see you." Trent reached his hand to Lanaya and shook her hand warmly. "Your timing couldn't be more perfect, as Delia's son was born last month and his Naming Day is tomorrow. Delia and Alistair sent scouts to search for you, in order to extend their invitation."

Leaving the hunters in the courtyard, Trent led his friends inside and up the stairs toward the royal study. The elves were fascinated by the building. Most of them had only heard of structures as large as the palace, and it amazed them that the ceiling didn't fall on top of them. Lanaya stopped in front of a huge tapestry that was hung above the huge stairway. Her eyes opened wide as she looked at the king who was portrayed in the weave of the fabric. He looked very familiar, yet something wasn't quite what she expected.

"Ser Trent, would you mind telling me about this… cloth? I've never seen anything like it." Lanaya couldn't tear her eyes from the image before her.

Trent looked at the tapestry and smiled. "That is what we call a tapestry. It's a form of artwork where the craftsmen weave pictures into the cloth. The man depicted is King Maric, Alistair's father. The picture shows Maric as he defeated the Orlesian usurper, Meghren, on the top of Fort Drakon."

Lanaya nodded. "I see the resemblance between Maric and Alistair. He must be proud that he is able to share his country's history in this manner."

A soft cough behind the group alerted them to another person having joined them. "As much as I would like to take credit for the placement of that tapestry, it has been hanging there since Maric's time." They turned around to find a grinning Alistair. "It is so good to see you, my friends. Delia will be so happy to see you! Please follow me. Trent, please come with us as well. I'm certain your men can do without you for some time."

Alistair led the small group down the hallway to the royal quarters. As he opened the door to the study, he called into the room, "Delia, love, I have a surprise for you!"

Delia was sitting in her favorite overstuffed chair, reading a book. She looked up at Alistair and teased, "Hush, Alistair. Gael just managed to get the boys to sleep. If you wake them, she'll have your hide!"

As he opened the door wider, allowing their guests to enter, Delia's face brightened into a huge smile.

"Lanaya! Oh, I can't tell you how happy I am to see you." Delia stood up from the chair and embraced her friend warmly. "I was hoping we would locate your clan in time for Duncan's Naming Day. Please tell me that you can stay for a few days."

Lanaya smiled at her friend. The two had become very close after they had first met. Delia impressed the keeper with her tireless assistance tending to sick members of her clan. "Well, we weren't expecting to stay, but we cannot deny such a heartfelt invitation."

Delia looked at Lanaya happily. "Wonderful! I'll send one of the pages to Seamus to arrange rooms for you. Are there any others with you?"

Varathorn nodded. "As much as we appreciate your hospitality, our clan is camped just outside of your city gates. We'll be more comfortable returning there for the night."

Alistair looked at their friends and smiled. "As you wish, however, please join us for dinner. We'll be having all our closest friends eating with us, including those we traveled with during the Blight. We'd love to have time to chat with you, and I'm certain they would love the same opportunity."

Lanaya answered, "We'd like that very much. Thank you, Alistair." Her eyes shifted to Delia. "Will Zevran be there as well?"

Delia grinned knowingly. "Yes, he will. He's a regular part of our little family. I _know_ he will be very happy to see you!"

Lanaya blushed ever so slightly as she smiled at her friend. Dinner promised to be quite an experience.

OoOoOoO

Delia and Alistair waited until Duncan finished eating before bringing him with them to dinner. Gael followed behind them carrying her son, Kraig, as she planned to spend time with her cousin Seamus after the meal. Ser Perth led the way down the hallways. The knight had a smile on his face, as seemed to be his usual state. Life as a guardsman seemed to agree with him.

Seamus was waiting for the group as they reached the door to the dining room. He announced their arrival to the guests before smiling warmly at Gael and leading her to his quarters. Alistair helped Delia to the head table. A cradle was placed in back of the table for Duncan, and Delia gently lay the sleeping baby down and tucked his blanket under his chin. He looked like an angel as he slept, and Alistair was amazed that the baby didn't wake up despite all the noise from their guests.

Lanaya was seated on Delia's left, and her eyes couldn't seem to stray from Duncan's face. "He is such a beautiful child. I'm so happy for both you and Alistair. Would you mind if I gave him an elven blessing?"

Delia smiled warmly at her friend. "I would love it if you did. Duncan will be raised to appreciate every culture and tradition in Ferelden, and we would be honored to have your blessing."

The Keeper stood up and rested her hand on Duncan's head. She spoke quietly while her eyes were kept closed. When she finished, she caressed the baby's hair and gave him a soft kiss on his forehead, then she sat back down next to the queen.

"Thank you, Lanaya. I can't tell you how much your friendship means to me." Delia grasped her friend's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "As a mother, especially, I am glad to know that Duncan has friends who will always watch out for his safety."

The meal was served, and the room was filled with conversation and laughter. Zevran sat on Lanaya's left. The two easily slipped into their own discussion, seemingly forgetting everyone else in the room. Across the table from them sat Sarel, Elizabeth and Varathorn. Sarel was trying to converse with Elizabeth, but was having a difficult time holding her attention as she seemed to be distracted.

Delia spent the meal simply watching the people around her. She knew that Zevran and Lanaya had become quite close when the wardens approached the Dalish clan for help during the Blight. It was Elizabeth that currently concerned her. As Zevran laughed and moved closer to the keeper, Elizabeth seemed to visibly stiffen her back. Could her friend be interested in Zevran? Delia tried to use her talent to see if she could learn anything, but all she saw were images of Elizabeth in what seemed to be a dark pit, crying. What had happened to her friend, and how did Zevran fit into it all?

Delia shook her head. She couldn't bring herself to pry that deeply into Elizabeth's mind. Besides, she needed to concentrate on her responsibilities. She looked over her shoulder at Duncan and noticed he was awake, so she stood up and went to the cradle's side. As her son smiled at her, she reached into the cradle and picked him up, inhaling his delicate baby scent as she pulled him close to her chest. His Naming Day would be perfect, now that all of their friends were with them. She sat back down at the table and handed Duncan to Alistair. As he fussed over the baby Delia felt more than happy. She felt like she had everything she could possibly ever want. Hopefully, nothing would ever take that feeling away from her.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Again, I apologize for the delay in updating my story. I believe I have finally worked past my block, so hopefully updates will be more timely.**_

Chapter 16: The Naming Day

Finally, Duncan's Naming Day arrived. Delia and Alistair spent the early part of the morning getting ready for the Chantry ceremony. They dressed in complimentary outfits made of grey blue Antivan brocade and white silk. Duncan's outfit was sewn from the same white silk and embroidered using grey blue thread. The work was quite intricate, showing the Theirin family heraldry on the chest. The royal family was brought to the chantry in a coach, accompanied by their personal regiment of guards. When they arrived, two young Templars escorted the family to their seats in the front of the sanctuary. As they walked down the center aisle, Delia looked around to see if she could find their family and friends.

Aeden and Leliana were already seated in the front row. As sponsors for Duncan, they were considered a part of the immediate family for seating purposes. In the row immediately behind the royal family sat Trent, Dairren, Fergus, Teagan, Wynne and Zevran. Anna, Elizabeth, Kinnon, Seamus and Gael sat in the next row, with Kraig sound asleep on his mother's lap. It was interesting to note that many of the palace staff members were in attendance. Delia was glad to know that so many felt close enough to the royals to purposely attend the ceremony and happily smiled and nodded at many of them as they walked past.

Once the royals took their seats, Delia turned around to try to find her Dalish friends. The three were sitting near the rear corner of the room. She could see that they all seemed to be uncomfortable, but as she watched, she noticed one of the guardsmen walk up to them with a warm smile on his face. It was Derrick, one of the younger members of the guard. Delia had often been impressed with his genuine warmth toward visitors at the gate as he performed his duties, so it didn't surprise her to see him trying to make the elves feel more at ease. She made a mental note to make sure to thank him at a later time for his hospitality toward her friends.

Before Delia had an opportunity to locate any others, the Reverend Mother rang the bells to begin the ceremony. The loud clanging woke Duncan, and he started to cry from fright. Alistair took him from Delia and gently bounced him to distract and settle him. Delia watched her husband in delight. He seemed to have a sense of exactly what their son needed at any given time, and Duncan would relax almost immediately whenever Alistair would pick him up.

Before she knew it, it was time for the family and sponsors to join the priestess in the front of the sanctuary. The Reverend Mother chanted appropriate verses from the Chant of Life as Duncan's eyes were mesmerized by the candles on the altar. Finally, the Reverend Mother asked Leliana and Aeden if they would do all in their power to ensure that Duncan followed the teachings of Andraste and protect him from the evils of the world, to which they both readily agreed, after which Duncan was handed to the Reverend Mother. She led a procession of priests and Templars as she carried the little prince through the aisles of the sanctuary. When the procession finished, Duncan was handed back to his father and the royal family led the way back to the palace for the reception.

Delia and Alistair greeted their guests while Gael brought Kraig and Duncan back to the nursery to feed and take their naps. It wasn't long before Seamus invited the group to take their seats for the meal. Delia was delighted to find that Aeden and Leliana had invited Gorshep and his family to sit at the head table. It was wonderful to have the opportunity to chat with their dwarven friends. Jessop was growing into a fine, young man. Griffon wouldn't leave his young friend's side for the entire meal, although Delia wasn't sure if it was because he had missed Jessop a great deal or if it was because of the many tidbits of food that Jessop fed to the dog.

The time passed quickly because of the pleasant conversation. When the meal was finished, Aeden quietly led their closest friends to the royal study while Alistair and Delia graciously said goodbye to the remainder of their guests. As soon as they could, they joined their friends. As they entered the room, Leliana was playing her lute, leading the group as they sang a well-known Ferelden folk song. The couple took a seat near the window and joined in the singing.

After the song completed, Leliana began to play one of the dances she learned from the Dalish. Lanaya approached Alistair and held out her hand. "I believe I have never had the opportunity to dance with you, my friend. Would you indulge me?"

Alistair smiled and took her hand. "I'm sure my wife would be amused, watching me trip over my own two feet. Sure… why not?"

Lanaya led him to the center of the room where they linked their elbows and started to spin in circles as their feet moved in time to the music. They were quite an awkward pair. Alistair towered over the elf, and, where Lanaya moved with a graceful ease, Alistair worked hard to keep from landing on her feet. Delia watched the two and laughed. At least Lanaya seemed to be enjoying herself, even if she needed to beware of her partner.

Varathorn made his way over to Delia as she watched her clumsy husband. "Delia, may I have a word with you, in private? It will only take a moment."

"Of course, Varathorn. We can go to the library. It's just down the hall."

Delia led her friend past the guards and toward the library. Two of the guardsmen followed them and stood guard outside as Delia shut the door behind her.

"What can I do for you, Varathorn?" she asked.

"It is actually more what I can do for you." Delia's eyebrow rose questioningly. "Do you remember the favor you asked from me the last time I saw you?"

Delia nodded her head. "Have you finished the box?"

Varathorn nodded with a smile as he removed a small ironwood box from his pack. The craftsmanship was exquisite. The top was inlaid in silverite with the Maker's mark, its shiny surface seeming to glow against the darkness of the wood finish. Suddenly she was overwhelmed with the memory of her conversation in the Fade with her grandfather. He had explained what she needed to do to save her husband's soul after he killed the archdemon.

"_You must get to Alistair's body. Stand above him and spread the remainder of the ashes to the four winds. Pray while you do this that the Maker will restore the land and its people. The words must come from your own heart. Then you must take the remainder of the ointment you created for Eamon and mark Alistair's forehead with the Maker's mark as you ask the Maker to restore his soul. Then you must take the Tears of Andraste and open the stopper and drip one drop onto the mark you just made. That will seal the mark and complete the ritual. The Tears themselves must be brought to Haven as soon as possible. They are to have a special chest created for them by the Dalish elves to be made from Ironwood. The mark of the Maker is to be inlaid on the lid using silverite. You will need to be the one to make the pilgrimage to place them alongside the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and you must speak to the Guardian to seal the room where they are kept. Pilgrims will be allowed to visit the Temple, but no one will be allowed to touch the relics ever again."_

Delia allowed her fingers to trace the Maker's mark on the lid of the box. She had not yet completed the task the Maker had placed in her hands, and now she needed to perform her final task as soon as possible. With a heavy sigh, she looked at Varathorn and smiled sadly.

"This is beautiful, Varathorn. It is exactly what I asked for. What do I owe you for your work?"

Varathorn put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her in sympathy. "You explained to me what this would be for when you asked me to make it. I am honored that you trusted me with the task. We are friends, Delia, and I would never expect to be paid for this. Your Maker asked for this box to be made by the Dalish for a reason, and I honor his request. I only wish that I could help you more."

Delia leaned over and kissed her friend's cheek. "Thank you, Varathorn. Your friendship is more valuable to me than I could ever put into words."

"As yours is to me, lethallan." He smiled warmly at her. "Come; let us not dwell on the task in front of you. Tonight is a celebration of family and friend. We should rejoin the others."

Delia nodded and led the way back to the royal study. As they entered the room she noticed Lanaya sitting on an ottoman, being healed by Wynne.

"Oh, my, what happened?" Delia looked at her husband, who sat sheepishly in the corner.

He looked at her with a frown. "I was trying really hard to be careful, I swear! It's just that I'm not a good dancer, and Lanaya is so… small, and I tripped…"

Wynne interrupted. "I'm afraid that Alistair stomped on Lanaya's foot and broke it. She'll be fine, but I think she'll have stay off her feet for the rest of the night." She looked at Alistair and clucked her tongue at him. "Young man, we really must work with you on your dancing. A mabari has more grace than you do."

"Heeeey, it's not all my fault. It's not like we were taught how to be light on our feet at the chantry. For some reason the Reverend Mother frowns on Templars and mages having social dances. Although, perhaps it would help lower the tensions between the two groups. Could you imagine Irving and Greagoir nervously asking women to dance?"

Zevran laughed. "Or, perhaps, one asking the other to dance?" As he noticed the looks on his friends' faces, he shrugged his shoulders. "It isn't unheard of. Men do dance with others. They can do far more than dance with each other as well. My dear Alistair, you know you have a standing offer to learn of what I speak." His eyes danced with mischief as Alistair turned a bright red.

"Zevran, we've been through this before. The answer is, as it always is, no. Find someone else to torment, please."

Zevran pretended to be crestfallen. "But you are simply too deliciously tempting to stop teasing."

Delia frowned at the two men and turned her attention to Lanaya. "Would you like to stay here overnight so that you can properly rest your foot?"

Wynne looked at the elf and nodded her head. "You really should stay here, Lanaya. You must keep your weight off your foot. I want to be certain that your bones mend properly, and if you are here I can look in on you more often."

Lanaya smiled and sighed softly. "Yes, Wynne, you are right. Thank you, Delia, for your generous offer. I suppose it will be an adventure of a sort. I've never stayed overnight in one of your buildings. It should be interesting."

"I'm not comfortable with your staying here, Keeper." Sarel looked at Alistair. "No offense, my friends, but how are we to know if there are humans working here who would do our Keeper harm? Not all humans are friends of the Dalish, as you well know."

Elizabeth cleared her throat. She had been sitting quietly in the corner, watching the others as they enjoyed themselves. "Your Majesty, may I suggest the Keeper spend the night in my quarters with me? No one in the palace would think it odd for her to stay with me, and I can personally assure the Dalish of her protection."

Sarel looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "How is it that you could assure her protection? Aren't you a simple servant here, like so many other city dwellers of our kind?"

Delia placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sarel, Elizabeth is no _simple servant_. She is my personal bodyguard, and a very skilled fighter."

"Lanaya, my beauty, I personally vouch for Elizabeth's skills. She trained with me in Antiva." Zevran smiled at Elizabeth. "She truly is an amazing woman."

"I'm sure she is, Zevran," said Lanaya. Her eyes appraised the elven woman as she nodded her assent. "Thank you, Elizabeth. I would be honored to be your guest tonight."

Delia walked over and hugged Elizabeth. "Thank you, my friend. I appreciate your help. I think you will enjoy Lanaya's company. You can learn a great deal from each other."

Elizabeth stifled a frown. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Excuse me while I arrange for an extra bed for the night." She quickly exited the room.

Delia could feel that something wasn't quite right with her friend, but she would have to wait to talk to her. "Varathorn and Sarel, would you feel better if you stayed as well? You could share a room together, or, if you'd feel better, perhaps Zev wouldn't mind your company in his quarters?"

Zevran winked at Sarel. "It would be like old times, yes? Stay with me. We can drink to our friendship and reminisce about the curse. It will be fun – I will make it fun."

Varathorn looked at Zevran. "Are you sure you have enough room for both of us to stay?"

Zevran laughed and clapped his hand against his friend's shoulder. "You will be surprised at the size of my quarters. Allow me to arrange for bedding for you both. I shall return momentarily."

Zevran left the room and walked toward the palace storage area. Along the way, he passed several servants who were carrying a mattress and bedding to Elizabeth's quarters. As Zevran turned a corner, he nearly ran into Elizabeth, who stopped with a huff.

"Zevran, you startled me," she said.

"I apologize, my dear. You seem to be… distracted. It is not like you to walk without being totally aware of everything around you. May I be of any assistance?"

"There is nothing you can do to assist me, Zevran. Why don't you try to charm someone else, perhaps the Dalish Keeper? You might actually have a chance with her."

Zevran looked at her in surprise. "I merely offered to help you, as a friend. I have made no attempt to, as you say, charm you. I am simply concerned about you, as your colleague."

Elizabeth frowned at him. "You are never _simply concerned_ about anyone. Go about your business and leave me alone."

She hurried away from him, leaving him confused, yet amused, by her behavior. _"Ah, my dear Elizabeth, there is something you are trying to hide from me, but you do not realize how transparent you are," _he thought to himself. _"I believe you will be quite the source of amusement for me."_ Zevran continued to the storage room and asked for the extra beds for his friends. When he was finished, he returned to the royal study.

He entered the room and smiled at the group. "The bedding should be in place within minutes. Lanaya, my dear, would you like me to carry you to your bed?" He wiggled his eyebrows at the Keeper, earning giggles from her and scowls from the two Dalish men.

"I think it would be better if Varathorn and I assist the Keeper. Thank you for your… offer, Zevran."

Sarel walked to Lanaya's side and offered his hand to help her stand. Varathorn moved to her other side and the two men helped her walk to the door.

"Elizabeth, would you be so kind as to lead the way?" Lanaya asked.

"Of course. Please, follow me." Elizabeth excused herself from the others in the room as Lanaya said goodnight to her hosts.

"I shall go with them as well, to escort Sarel and Varathorn to my rooms once Lanaya has been made comfortable. May the rest of you have a good night." Zevran bowed slightly toward the king and queen before he followed the other elves out of the room.

The other guests also decided it was time to call it a night, and before long Delia and Alistair were left alone in their study. Alistair walked to his wife and took her into his arms as he gently kissed her forehead.

"It has been quite a day, my love. You look exhausted."

Delia nodded. "I am exhausted." _"And I have a great deal to think about and plan," _she thought. "Perhaps tomorrow we can spend some time alone? It seems as though we have been entertaining guests for weeks, and I would love some time where we could talk, just the two of us."

He pulled her tighter against his chest. "Your desire is my command, my dear. For now, I think we need some sleep." Releasing his hold, he took her hand instead and led her into their bedchamber.

As she blew out the candle at her bedside, Delia couldn't seem to calm her mind. She was concerned about Elizabeth's earlier behavior, but the task given to her by the Maker seemed to overwhelm her thoughts. Somehow she needed to get to Haven as quickly as possible. Convincing her husband and their advisors of that, however, would be a difficult task in of itself. Finally, after several hours of pondering, Delia found a restless sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Thank you to Arcturasb, my new friend and second pair of eyes. I appreciate all your help!**_

Chapter 17: Elizabeth's Story

Varathorn and Sarel helped Lanaya to Elizabeth's quarters. Once she was sitting in a chair comfortably, the two took their leave of the keeper. Lanaya looked around the room and smiled at her hostess.

"This room is lovely, Elizabeth. Did you choose the furnishings yourself?" she asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, Queen Delia arranged for everything in here. She chose objects that she thought would make me feel more at home."

"You are from Antiva, am I correct?" As Elizabeth nodded, Lanaya smiled again. "I would love to learn more about Antiva. Zevran has told me many stories about its beauty."

"It is a beautiful country, yet it is also a very dangerous place. Of course, the danger never shows itself openly. Many people are caught off guard as their eyes are bewitched by the colors of the flowers or the magnificent buildings."

Lanaya chuckled. "Then I suppose that Zevran is a true reflection of his home country. His handsome face and charming personality can easily make one forget the danger he embodies."

Elizabeth scowled. "Yes, Zevran is… enchanting. One must always be on their guard when he is nearby."

"How long have the two of you known each other? He said that you trained with him in Antiva."

Elizabeth turned away from her guest and began to fuss with the extra bedding, turning down the sheets and fluffing the pillows. "I have known him for many years; however I do not wish to speak of it."

"Why not? Perhaps it would be best if we were honest with each other where Zevran is concerned. You seem to be troubled whenever the two of us are speaking. I would like to know what your interests are where he is concerned. I think it would help us both be more at ease, don't you?" Lanaya crossed her arms and looked at Elizabeth, her face calm but her demeanor seeming to be nervous.

"Keeper, I do not wish to be rude, however I have no intention of discussing my past, or Zevran, with you." Elizabeth walked to the door of her bedroom and put her hand on the knob.

"Or is it that you would rather not share his attention?" Lanaya looked at Elizabeth with a raised eyebrow. "Do not think that your reaction to his keeping me company hasn't been noticed. It's obvious that it bothers you."

Elizabeth turned around and glared at her. "You have no idea what is going through my mind. Do not make assumptions about what you know nothing about. Now, goodnight, Keeper."

Elizabeth quickly walked through the door, shutting it behind her loudly. She walked over to her mirror and pulled her ring out from inside her dress. A tear escaped from her eye before she was able to pull herself together. _"You know nothing of my pain, Keeper. You need to simply leave me alone and stop prying into things that are none of your affair,"_ she thought. She kissed the ring before placing it back on her chest. Quickly, she changed into her night clothes and went to bed.

It was not a good night for her. Nightmares plagued her dreams and she woke in the middle of the night drenched in a cold sweat. Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep until she settled her thoughts, Elizabeth walked to her window seat and looked out at the stars.

"_Will I ever be free? Oh, Maker… or Creators… whoever is listening to my prayers, please help me to leave the past in the past. I have a good life now – I don't want anything to destroy what I have. I beg you to help me…"_

_ooOoo_

A ray of sunlight passed through the curtains and landed directly in Elizabeth's eye, waking her. She sat up and rubbed her eyes with a yawn. The only good thing about this morning would be that the Dalish would be leaving, and with them Lanaya's questions. Elizabeth walked to her wardrobe and selected a moss green dress. It was a comfortable dress, even if it was bulky, and she needed to feel as relaxed as possible if she would be able to retain her composure with the Keeper. She dressed and sat in front of her mirror to braid her hair. Instead of pinning her long braid into a bun, she decided to leave it hanging down her back.

Noise from her adjoining sitting room let her know that Lanaya was awake and already had Wynne checking on her foot. Being distracted by the noise, her normal routine of readying her blades was forgotten. She took a deep breath, forced a smile, and opened the door. As she entered the room, she noticed Lanaya sitting in a chair with Wynne casting a spell on her afflicted foot.

"How is your foot this morning, Keeper? I hope it is feeling much better." Elizabeth tried to maintain a cheerful demeanor, although she was finding the Keeper's mere presence to be irritating.

"It is much better, thank you," Lanaya replied. "Wynne is a truly gifted healer. I appreciate all you have done for me," she said, as she smiled at the mage.

"It's my pleasure, my dear," said Wynne. "Now, I know that Delia has a wonderful breakfast arranged for us all downstairs. We shouldn't keep the other's waiting; you know how cranky the wardens get when they're hungry."

With a chuckle, Lanaya stood up. "Yes, let's go. My people need to continue to our winter campsite. I know that Sarel is becoming impatient. Our clan has remained in one place for too long."

The three women walked out of the room and through the hallways to the dining room. While Wynne and Lanaya conversed amiably along the way, Elizabeth followed behind silently. She really didn't want to be with the Keeper, and would find the first possible opportunity to leave. As they entered the dining room, Zevran greeted them.

"Ah, Lanaya, my dear, I see you are much better this morning, thanks no doubt to our incredible Wynne." He kissed her hand and smiled at her lustfully. "I must admit, I would much have preferred your beautiful company last night instead of your friends'. Alas, it was not to be. Perhaps we will have the opportunity in the future, no?"

Lanaya giggled and blushed. "Oh, Zevran, you are such a flirt. Excuse me a moment. I must speak to Delia."

She walked across the room with Wynne, leaving Zevran with Elizabeth. "I trust you had a pleasant evening, Elizabeth. The Keeper is a most intriguing woman."

"Yes… intriguing…. Excuse me, Zevran, but I must see if the queen needs anything."

He caught her hand and held her there, his eyes trying to meet hers. Elizabeth lowered her gaze before sternly saying, "Zevran, let go of me."

"There is something wrong. I can tell. What happened last night?"

She shook her hand out of his grip. "Nothing happened. I simply have work to do. Now, leave me alone."

Elizabeth left the room walking blindly through hallways hoping tha Delia would understand. She had to get away. Suddenly she was grabbed from behind and spun around.

"What are you doing down here, knife ears?" It was Bertram. He nearly spit in her face as he snarled, "You aren't supposed to be anywhere near the armory."

"I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I'll go back upstairs." She tried to pull her arm from his grip, but he only tightened his hand.

"You aren't going anywhere. I think it's time you learned your place here in the palace." He grabbed her other arm, holding her elbows behind her back, and started to pull her into a storage room.

"Let me go, Bertram!"

"There's no one down here to hear you, bitch. You think you're something else, don'tcha? Gone from a serving wench to the queen's lady in waiting… well, you aren't anything but another whore elf and it's time you realized that."

Elizabeth struggled in vain. _"Damn this dress! I can barely move!"_

Bertram pulled her through the door and slammed it shut as he pushed her into a wall. She hit her forehead and struggled to stay conscious as she fell to the floor in a heap. Then he was on top of her, ripping her dress. She tried to push him off, but her muscles wouldn't cooperate.

The door to the room flew open, and in a blur, Bertram was pulled off of her. She tried to see what was happening, but her eyes couldn't focus. The sounds of fists hitting flesh and grunts filled the room, and the smell of blood began to overwhelm her. As soon as it started, it was over. A pair of hands reached out to her and gently took her shoulders.

"Elizabeth, my dear, how badly did he hurt you?"

Her eyes tried to focus, and although her sight was still blurry she could tell it was Zevran.

"Zev? My head… I hit it against the wall. I can't see very well."

He gently picked her up and carried her out of the room. "We shall get Wynne. That bastard will not come to for several hours, but he is tied up and will not escape no matter what. He will be punished for this, I promise you, mi querida."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. It felt too familiar… as if she had never escaped the Crows in the first place. Tears began to flow against her will, staining his shirt along with the blood from the gash in her head and from the man who had attacked her.

She didn't realize they were already at the dining room until she heard Zevran call for Wynne. Just as quickly, he carried her to her own room and gently lay her down on her bed. He stood aside as Wynne searched with her magic to determine the extent of her injuries.

After the mage cast a healing spell on Elizabeth's head wound, Wynne looked at Zevran with a frown. "What happened to her, Zev?"

He looked at Elizabeth with more concern in his eyes than Wynne had ever seen. "It was that guard, Bertram, the one with the elven prejudice. Elizabeth did not seem to be herself when I saw her at breakfast, so I followed her. She walked blindly and ended up near the armory. That excuse of a man attacked her with no reason. Currently, he is tied up in the armory storage. I should inform Trent of his crime. Please, Wynne, will she be alright?"

She reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "Of course she will be. You saved her from much worse than this concussion."

He nodded. "Alright then, I shall return after I have spoken to Trent." Looking at the floor, he pulled his hands into tight fists as he obviously struggled to contain his anger.

As he turned to leave, Elizabeth stirred. "Zev…"

"Yes, my sweet Elizabeth?" He looked at her sadly.

"Thank you. It seems I owe you… yet again."

"Ah, my dear, you owe me nothing. I am only sorry I couldn't have stopped him from the start."

As he rushed out of the room he passed Delia, who quickly entered. She hurried to Elizabeth's side and took her hand. Wynne explained what had happened. Delia's eyes teared up as she heard how the guard had attacked her friend.

"Wynne, would you please leave us? I need to speak to Elizabeth privately."

Wynne nodded and quietly left the bedroom. Delia looked into her friend's face.

"Are you feeling better, Elizabeth?"

"Yes. Wynne's healing is amazing. I'm already seeing more clearly. Things are only a bit fuzzy."

"I'm relieved." Delia paused for a moment, sighing softly. "What exactly happened? I must admit, I'm surprised he was able to catch you that way."

Elizabeth looked at Delia sadly. "I made a mistake this morning. This dress is comfortable, but I can't move as well as I need when I fight… and I must have forgotten my extra daggers. My mind just wasn't where it should have been. I apologize – I could have put you in danger. If you feel the need to rethink my position, I wouldn't blame you…"

Delia squeezed her hand. "No, I could tell that something hasn't been… right with you. Would you like to talk about it? It's been obvious that something about Lanaya has troubled you. I'd like to help, if I can."

"It's… complicated." Elizabeth's eyes dropped as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Is it that you have feelings for Zevran?"

Elizabeth's eyes shot up in surprise. "Is that what you think? Oh, no, it's nothing like that. Well, not that I have feelings for him anyway. You… you asked me when I started working for you if I would tell you the story behind my ring when I felt the time was right. I suppose the time is now."

Delia could feel the sadness leaping to the forefront of Elizabeth's emotions. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't wish to."

"No, Delia, you have been more than a friend to me, which is far more than I deserve. You deserve to know the truth about my life, such as it's been. You know that I was born in Antiva and trained with Zevran, but you do not know in what capacity. I am not a Crow, but I was a slave to Zevran's master. I was used as a training tool. The apprentice assassins would practice many things on me… battle techniques, how to subdue and rape a woman, as well as many forms of torture. Most of the apprentices had no sense of compassion. They simply did whatever the Master told them to do, no matter what it meant to the 'training equipment'. There were a few, however, who would tell the Master that they had done as he requested without actually hurting the slaves. Zevran was one of them, along with his friends, Taliesin, Rinna, and Gervasio. Gervasio took a special interest in me, and would bring me extra food whenever he could. Somehow, in the middle of all that pain and suffering, we fell in love."

Elizabeth seemed to look past Delia as she thought about her lost love. "My Gervasio was very handsome. His hair was the color of aged chestnut wood, his eyes were tinged with green, and he always had a smile on his face. He begged Zevran to help him escape the Crows with me. Gervasio was not cut from the cloth of an assassin. He was an able fighter, but he couldn't close his heart away from the pain he caused others. Zevran sympathized with him, and he and the others planned for months to find a way for us to leave."

"One day, as I sat huddled in the corner of the slave quarters, Rinna snuck in to see me. She brought clothes and weapons, and after I dressed she led me out through basement tunnels and through the backstreets of Antiva City. We arrived at a deserted warehouse near the docks, to find Gervasio, Zevran and Taliesin waiting with a priestess. Gervasio and I were married, and then Zevran and the others tried to help us escape. We were sure that we were being hunted, but even living with fear, we had a few weeks of happiness as we tried to make our way to the Free Marches. We were in Salle, trying to buy passage on a ship, when the Master caught up with us. I don't know how he found us, but someone must have overheard the plan."

"I don't remember exactly how it happened. Gervasio was smiling as we bartered with a merchant, but as he looked over my shoulder his face became ashen." Elizabeth started to visibly shake as a tear escaped from her eye. "He told me to run, just to run, so I did. I ran as fast as I could, to a safe house that Zevran had told the two of us about. I heard the swords clashing in the square as I ran away. Once I arrived at the safe house, I hid in the attic. I was certain they would come searching for me, and I was right. Several hours later, I heard people downstairs. Furniture was smashed, wardrobes were destroyed, but even after they looked through all the rooms they never found the small opening into the attic."

"Zevran found me the next day. I was shaking in fright. I asked him where my Gervasio was, but he simply shook his head sadly. No one ever saw my Gervasio again. Zev helped me to find safety in a small village, but he needed to leave me to pursue a job with Rinna and Taliesin. I didn't see him again until after I made my way to Denerim."

Tears flowed freely down Elizabeth's face as she took her ring into her hands and held it in front of her eyes. "This is all I have left of my beloved. I cannot tell you how much I miss him."

"Why are you disturbed by Lanaya and Zevran being together then? If you aren't jealous, what is it that you are feeling?" Delia asked quietly.

"It is jealousy, but not of their relationship. I am jealous that Zevran is able to have a relationship, even after losing Rinna. I do not think I will ever be able to trust any man the way I could my Gervasio. It simply is not fair…"

Delia reached out and pulled her friend into a hug, allowing the elf to sob on her shoulder. Now that Elizabeth had freely told her the story, Delia reached into her using her sight. She could see Gervasio, smiling lovingly at Elizabeth. He truly was her beacon of salvation. Delia started to cry as well. The pain Elizabeth had suffered at the hands of the Crows was too much to bear. Perhaps, now that she had been able to share her pain she would finally be able to heal.


	18. Chapter 18

**_I know... it has been far too long between updates. This summer has taken a sudden turn for me and I was far busier than I expected, making my muse become very, very angry. The muse and I are trying to work together again, although life is still too busy, and we will try very, very hard to update more regularly._**

Chapter 18: Mysterious Circumstances

Bertram sat on the hard cot in his cell. He held his head in his hands as the events of the previous few days circled through his thoughts. _"Stupid, stupid idiot! You allowed yourself to lose control of your actions, and now you've lost everything you worked for. No more cushy position in the guard… you'll be lucky to escape this prison with your life! I should have listened when Trent tried to counsel me on how I behaved. Those knife eared trash aren't worth it!"_

His trial was scheduled for the following day. There would be no way he could escape his due punishment. How would his family survive now that he had disgraced himself? Bertram thought of his sister and little brother… they had no one else to provide for them. No whore was worth what he now had cost them. Neither would have a future. A heavy sigh escaped before he choked down a sob.

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled him out of his self-reproaching. It wasn't time for a meal, so no one should be coming to see him. Keys jingled before he heard the lock of his cell opened. A hooded man stood before him, dressed all in black.

"This is your only chance to escape. Leave now and never return to Denerim," the man whispered.

"But my trial is tomorrow…" Bertram replied softly.

"Do not argue with me. You leave now or you will die. Now go."

Bertram stood and quickly left the cell. He hurried toward the sewage tunnels and made his escape. A plan quickly formed in his thoughts to take his family to one of the small villages in the Frostback Mountains. They wouldn't think to look for him there, but perhaps he could find work.

The smell of human filth nearly overwhelmed his senses, but before long he exited the tunnels, finding himself in the boggy marsh on the banks of the Drakon River, not far from the city gates. Bertram looked around before swimming across the river, making his way to his sister's small house near the Alienage. He needed to have his siblings pack what they could carry and leave the city as soon as possible.

ooOoo

Zevran and Trent walked down the corridor of the dungeon on their way to Bertram's cell. It had taken nearly clapping Zevran in irons to keep him away from the guardsman until his temper cooled, but Trent still wouldn't allow his friend to see Bertram alone for fear of what the former Crow would do to the man.

The two turned the final corner and were both shocked to see the cell door wide open. They drew their weapons and rushed to the cell. A body was crumpled in the corner. Trent rushed to the side of the downed man and rolled him onto his back, looking for signs of life, while Zevran quickly looked down the nearby corridors for others.

"He lives. We need a healer, quickly." Trent looked up at Zevran. "You need to get Kinnon."

"I will not leave you alone down here. There is no way to know what dangers you would face."

"Send some of the guardsmen down here from the lower barracks. I will be fine for a few minutes, but hurry, Zev. Derrick here has a rather nasty head wound. He needs healing as soon as possible."

Zevran frowned at Trent, but nodded. "Be careful. Do not trust any sound. I will tell the guard to loudly identify themselves as they approach." He slipped away to the barracks, sending six men to assist Trent. Then Zevran hurried through the palace in search of Kinnon. He found the mage near the kitchen, tying bundles of herbs to dry.

"Kinnon, a guardsman needs your attention. Follow me, please." Zevran led him to the cell.

Kinnon immediately sat next to Derrick, who had regained consciousness. "I don't need a mage. I'm fine, Ser Trent. Really. It's just a hit on the head." Derrick mustered a smile as he tenderly touched the wound on his forehead, flinching from the pain.

"Don't try to be a hero, Guardsman Derrick. Let me heal that for you. It will just take a moment." Kinnon wove his magic around the man, the wound on his head quickly disappearing. The mage was surprised to find no other damage to the man's head. Usually when someone was knocked unconscious the damage ran deeper into the brain. He pushed his thoughts to the side as he smiled at Derrick. "There you are, Guardsman. You should be fine."

Derrick slowly stood up. "Thank you, Kinnon. I appreciate your help."

Trent straightened up and stood next to Zevran, who was leaning against the cell door with his arms crossed. The look on Zevran's face was blank, but Trent knew his friend's thoughts would be swirling as the elf tried to sort out the situation at hand.

"So, Derrick, can you tell us what happened?" Trent watched his guardsman's face carefully as he waited for his answer.

Derrick scratched the back of his head. "I came down here to bring some supper to Bertram, only to find the cell door open. I set the tray down on a table in the hall and rushed into the cell, only to be pushed from behind into the wall. The next thing I remember is you kneeling beside me." He frowned and looked down to the floor. "I'm sorry, Commander. I didn't see anyone's face and I don't know what happened to Bertram."

Trent looked toward the other guardsmen standing in the hall. "Guardsman Colin, form a search party. I want every inch of the dungeon searched. Guardsman Turvol, I want you to take five men with you to his home. Question his family members and learn whatever you can about where he could have gone." Trent turned to Derrick. "I want you to return to the barracks. Get some rest and a good meal. You can report for duty tomorrow."

"Yes Ser. Thank you, Ser Trent. And thank you again, Kinnon, for healing me."

Derrick walked from the cell and down the hall. After the sound of the dungeon's heavy door reverberated through the stone lined corridor, Zevran stepped out of the cell and looked both ways down the hallway. Satisfied that he, Kinnon and Trent were alone, he cleared his throat.

"My friends, something about this situation isn't as it appears. Kinnon, how severe were Derrick's injuries?"

"Not very extensive at all. I actually am quite surprised he was out cold. Are you certain he was?"

Trent thought before he nodded. "He would have to be quite an actor to have feigned his condition. Zev, could there have been some sort of poison involved?"

Zevran looked around the floor before finding a fine dust near where Derrick had been found. "There is evidence of a sleeping powder. I will need to study a sample to determine which type this is. That may give us a clue as to who planned this escape."

Trent stroked his chin as he thought. "Who could have possibly wanted to free Bertram?"

"It is important that we find out, my friend. There may be far more to this situation than we originally thought." Zevran stepped into the hallway. "Let us return to our duties. I wish to test this powder and remain closer to Delia and Alistair in case they need our protection."

With a nod, Trent exited the cell, followed by Kinnon. As the three walked down the hallway, their footsteps reverberated down the corridor. The empty echoes did nothing to calm their nerves. The best they could hope for was that this wasn't another conspiracy against their king and queen.

ooOoo

Aeden was not happy to learn of Bertram's escape. He was scheduled to leave for Vigil's Keep the following morning, and now he had to worry about his friends' safety. After finishing his packing, he went in search of Leliana. He located her in the Sitting Room, where she sat practicing her lute. She smiled as he entered the room, then set her instrument down and stood. Aeden walked toward her quickly, pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her gently.

"Oh, Leli, I am going to miss you so terribly," he said with a sigh before releasing her and taking a seat next to where she had been sitting.

As she sat back down, she frowned at him. "All right, I can tell there is something wrong. What has happened, mon amour."

"Bertram has escaped. It seems that someone helped him, and injured Derrick in the process. I hate to leave, especially now when there could be a real danger lurking for Alistair and Delia. Promise me that you'll be extra vigilant, for yourself as well as our friends. Make certain you inform me right away about anything you learn."

"I promise, Aeden, but I promised to write to you every day already." She chuckled as she knelt in front of him and cupped his chin in her hand. "You do not need to be responsible for everything, you know that, yes? We will watch over our friends. You know that Zevran will never allow anything to get past him. He already feels too responsible for what happened to Delia at Habren's hands as well as what happened to Elizabeth. He has increased patrols and has promised to personally watch over their food at functions. I will work at his side. If there is a conspiracy afoot, they will not be able to get past the two of us."

"I wonder if I should leave Dusty here, to help guard you." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her neck softly. "It would kill me if anything happened to you. At least, if Dusty were here with you I would feel as if there were a part of me still here to guard you."

"Actually, chéri, that may be a very good idea. Dusty is a very imposing sight, and to have both him and Griffon sitting with the king and queen at their thrones is a deterrent to any criminal. You also will have a great deal of rebuilding to do at the keep, and you may not have time to properly care for him."

Aeden sighed and leaned back against his chair. "Yes, there is that. I believe he will be happier here, where people will have time to spend with him." He pulled her into his chest and nibbled on her earlobe. "Maybe he'll also guilt you into writing as you promised. I will be extra lonely, now that I won't even have my dog with me."

Leliana laughed. "I promise to update you every day. I'll even have Dusty write to you, but his paw print may have to do."

Aeden chuckled. "Oh, to be a fly on the wall as you try to get my valiant mabari to make a nice paw print for his daddy. I dare you to do that. I can't wait to hear how you accomplish it."

"Oh, you had best not doubt me." Leliana kissed him sensually, ending the conversation as Aeden's thoughts were hijacked by the beautiful woman on his lap.

ooOoo

Turvol was not happy. He and his guards arrived at Bertram's home only to find it empty. It seemed that none of the neighbors had seen any of the family members all day. He waited with his men until after dark, and then left half of the men there while he returned to the palace. He could only imagine what his commander would think of his failure.

He walked up to the door of Trent's office and paused. Heaving a heavy sigh, he knocked on the door and entered the room when he heard Trent beckon him inside.

Trent looked up from his paperwork to see his guardsman standing at attention. "At ease, Turvol. Please, have a seat."

Turvol sat in the chair next to his commander's desk and placed his hat in his lap. He fingered the elaborate braid that ran around the brim nervously. Trent raised an eyebrow as he noticed how nervous the guardsman seemed to be.

"Is everything alright, Turvol?"

"Yes ser, Commander. It's just that Bertram's family was already gone when we arrived at the house."

"I see. What did you do then?"

"We searched the house. If they took anything with them, it was only what they could carry on their backs. There was nothing there to point us in any direction, so we questioned the neighbors. No one had seen them, and it seems the three of them have no other living relatives. We stayed at the house until dark, and then half of my men stayed while we came back to report in. I'm sorry, ser. We did our best."

"Understood, Turvol. I doubted you would find anything, to be honest. Why don't you send a few men to retrieve the others and get yourself a good, hot meal?"

"Yes ser. Thank you, and goodnight."

"Goodnight, Turvol." Trent watched as his guardsman exited the room and closed the door, and then he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. It disturbed him that Bertram wouldn't be held accountable for his actions, but it bothered him even more that he had underestimated the man. He always thought Bertram was honorable inside, but allowed his past experiences to cloud his views of people. Trent felt as though he had failed the guard; somehow he should have been able to reach the good person he knew was inside.

Trent picked up the glass on his desk and took a long swallow of Antivan brandy. As he felt the golden liquid burn its way down his throat, he tried to come up with a plan of action. He needed to keep his charges safe – a task made more difficult now that Bertram was nowhere to be found.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Two chapters in two days... maybe my muse will stick around for awhile?**_

Chapter 19: A Threat at the Keep

Aeden's departure from the palace left a void in Alistair's adopted family that troubled her more than he had expected. Alistair felt lost, and spent a good part of his free time deep in his own thoughts. Aeden was the closest thing to a brother he had ever had. There was nothing that Delia could have done to prepare him for his loneliness. As he looked through his daily paperwork, a request caught his eye from Vigil's Keep.

_Your Majesty,_

_Upon arriving at Vigil's Keep, we have been under near constant attack by darkspawn. They seem to be searching for a weakness in our defenses. Unfortunately for us, we find the keep is severely underequipped and we have an urgent need for weaponry. We are asking you to send supplies as quickly as possible._

_Respectfully,_

_Antoine, Second Warden Commander of Ferelden_

Immediately, Alistair walked to the armory. He spoke directly to the Armory Captain, explaining the needs of the wardens and ordering the supplies to be gathered and readied for transport. Alistair hurried back to the royal quarters and pulled a small campaign trunk from his wardrobe. As he started to pack his clothing, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught his attention.

"And what are you doing, Alistair? Are you traveling somewhere without me?" Delia stood in the doorway, her face clearly showing her annoyance.

"I'm sorry, love, but I received a missive from Antoine. They are in desperate need of weaponry because the darkspawn are swarming all over. I need to get there as quickly as possible with supplies."

"Oh really? And just when were you going to tell me about this? Don't you think you could send a regiment with the supplies and you stay here – with me – where you belong?"

"I'm sorry, Delia, but I feel that this is something I must do. I'm a warden first and foremost. They are my brothers and sisters…"

"And I am your wife, and Duncan your son. And the people of Ferelden are depending on you. You can't simply run off on a whim."

Alistair's normally calm face clouded in anger. "A whim? Do you think I should leave the wardens alone without the means to protect themselves or the people of the Keep? What about Aeden? He doesn't have a clue about what he's walking into! How can you be so selfish?"

Delia was shocked. "Selfish? Because I am trying to tell you where your duty lies? You are the _king_, Alistair, not just another warden. Don't forget that you can't even sense the darkspawn anymore. You would be walking into a hornets' nest without being able to see when they are swarming at you!"

Alistair took a step toward her and straightened his back. "I have no choice but to go. The subject is closed. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to pack. I leave at dawn."

Delia spun around and quickly left their quarters, slamming the door behind her. Both babies immediately started to fuss, and the sounds of Gael's cooing and shushing followed. Alistair sighed, his shoulders slumping. She was right, of course. He should stay and be the king, but he felt, no, he_ needed_ to make sure that the wardens would be alright. Visions of Ostagar ran through his mind, and where he couldn't have done anything for them, he could do something for these men.

As he finished packing and closed the lid of his chest, he heard angry steps walking toward him.

"I don't care if you are the bloody king, Alistair, when those boys are sleeping you cannot slam the door! It was bad enough that you and the misses were fighting so loud, but nothing could keep those babies asleep with that slam."

"I'm sorry, Gael, but for that you'll have to speak to Delia," he said with a sigh. "I'm afraid I've made her very angry."

"We, you best settle it quickly. Those two boys deserve to be in a calm environment. I'll not have this kind of ruckus." She walked back to the nursery, quietly closing the door behind her.

Alistair carried his chest to the hallway and handed it to a guardsman, directing him to make sure to load it with the supplies, after which he quickly walked to the dining room. He looked around for his wife, but she wasn't there. Instead, he saw Zevran, glaring at him in a manner the elf hadn't since early on their travels during the blight. Zevran slowly stood up and walked toward him.

"You are a fool, Alistair. You should not go out to battle the darkspawn."

Alistair nodded. "Yes, I have already heard. I assume you've seen my wife?"

"How else would I have learned that you are still as ridiculously stupid as you have always been, hmmm?"

"I don't remember asking your opinion, Zevran. Where is my wife? I need to speak to her."

Zevran pursed his lips, pulled his dagger from his scabbard and started to clean his nails with the tip. "I honestly do not know where she is, but even if I did, I don't think I would tell you. You have hurt her yet again, my friend, and this time I do not think you will be able to undo the injury. You are acting impulsively, and by doing such you put the entire kingdom at risk."

Alistair frowned as he crossed his arms against his chest. "Again, I don't believe I asked your opinion."

He turned and left the room, walking to the library. Perhaps she had gone to her brother, but when he arrived he found the library empty. The next place he looked was the garden, but the cold rain would prevent her from staying there. He walked to the sitting room and found Kinnon with Leliana and Elizabeth.

"Have any of you seen my wife?" he asked as his eyes scanned the room.

Leliana scowled at him while Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, a slight frown forming on her face. "Alistair, how could you? No, we do not know where Delia has gone, but you are not thinking as a king. You must…"

"Thank you, Leli, but all I asked was if you had seen Delia. I didn't ask your opinion about _my decision_. If you will excuse me…"

He quickly left the room and walked back to the royal quarters. As he stepped into their private sitting room, he noticed Trent sitting near the fire.

With a sigh, he walked over and sat in the chair next to his father-in-law. "I suppose you know where Delia is."

Trent looked at him sadly. "Yes, I know where she is, and I am sworn to secrecy. She gave me a letter to give to you. Alistair, you must reconsider."

"And what kind of a king sits in his palace comfortably by the fire while his men battle?" he snapped. "I must bring the weapons to the wardens and prevent another catastrophic loss."

"I understand how you feel, Alistair, but our men could bring the supplies just as well as you can, and then you can stay here while you are still protecting the wardens."

"No, Trent, you don't understand. I couldn't stop their slaughter at Ostagar, but I swear I'll stop it this time. I won't allow Aeden to be among my list of dead warden friends." He stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the courtyard, and took a deep breath. "Trent, if you don't mind, I think I need to read Delia's letter alone."

Trent stood and walked to the door. As he started to open it, he turned back and looked at Alistair. "If you need me, I'll be in my quarters. Otherwise, I'll be there in the morning to see you off."

Alistair quietly thanked him as Trent walked out. He walked to his desk and sat down, pulling a letter opener from the top drawer and carefully breaking the wax seal. His anger flared again as he started to read.

_My darling,_

_I can't believe how short sighted you are being. We need you here, however I know that there is no way I can talk sense into you. I have rarely seen you as pig headed as you were today, so go and take care of your wardens. Just don't expect me to stand there, watching you ride away to your possible death. There is no reason why you are doing this, when there are so many men at your personal command who would willingly perform this errand without a second thought._

_Don't bother to look for me, as I have found alternate lodging for the night. It would be nice if you would bother to give your son a kiss before you leave, as he may never see you again because of your folly. I only hope that somehow the Maker will intercede and force you to understand where your true responsibilities lie. May he protect you from harm, but mostly may he protect you from yourself._

_Try to remember that I love you, even if you are a pig headed idiot._

_Delia_

Alistair crumpled the note and threw it in the fire. She wouldn't even say goodbye to him? Well then, let her worry. He removed the embroidered heart from his pocket; the one Delia made for him before he traveled to the Deep Roads, and breathed in the scent of the dried roses and lavender before he placed it on his desk. _"If she wants to be angry with me, let her be. Perhaps she needs to be reminded who is king and who makes the decisions."_ Alistair stood up and blew out the lamps before going into the bedchamber. He needed a good night's sleep, although even he knew that sleep would elude him.

ooOoo

Delia spent the night trying to sleep on a cot in the one place she knew Alistair wouldn't think to look for her – Zevran's quarters. She knew she could trust the elf, and knew that if she needed someone to comfort her he would lend a shoulder to cry on. Griffon lay on the floor next to her, lifting his head once in a while to check on her. The deerhound could tell his mistress was unhappy, but he couldn't find a way to make her feel better.

When the first beams of sunlight broke through the window, Delia walked to the window and looked out at the courtyard. A regiment of guardsmen was being assembled. She watched as Alistair walked out to the group. One of the groomsmen handed Alistair's horse to him, and he quickly mounted. As she watched her husband, he looked up at the palace, the expression on his face one of sadness. Quickly he regained his composure, and, with a motion of his arm, he started the troops on their journey to Vigil's Keep. Delia watched out the window, throwing a kiss to her retreating husband, before collapsing on the window seat in tears.


End file.
